


Evil Author Day 2020

by Tazzy_Ladynero



Series: Evil Author Day [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Labyrinth (1986), Original Work, Saiyuki (Anime & Manga), Stargate SG-1, Trinity Blood
Genre: Evil Author Day, M/M, Multi, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:01:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22727320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tazzy_Ladynero/pseuds/Tazzy_Ladynero
Summary: It is Evil Author Day. This year is a collection of things I'm working on, including unpublished chapters of WIP
Relationships: Jareth (Labyrinth)/Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy/Abel Nightroad/Severus Snape, Original Characters - Relationship
Series: Evil Author Day [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/407137
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48
Collections: Minions' writings





	1. The Cat Came Back

**Author's Note:**

> These are various parts of stories that are WIP. Some are chapters of current WIP stories. I have not abandoned my stories, but I have been busy working on other things.

To say that Amelia Cabot was the most sought after woman in the little town of Enwick, New York was like saying the Atlantic was a little wet. As the heiress to a manufacturing empire, she had plenty of money that had more than one man panting after her, and those that weren’t after her money were after her looks. More than once, she had been compared to a “Golden Age of Hollywood” star, the classic beauty that will never fade, and she had started to grow tired and jaded of all the attention. Her personal assistant who handled Amelia’s various correspondences once reported a record breaking two hundred proposals arriving in one day, both by mail and accompanied by large, ridiculously expensive bouquets of flowers that she immediately donated to the local hospital and senior home just so she didn’t have to deal with them.

The proposals were burned in the fire pit in the backyard.

The next day, Amelia held a press conference in front of the gate leading to her house, and most of the town was there as well. Any excuse to see the beautiful Miss Cabot was acceptable to many of those gathered, and the bulbs of cameras were flashing the second her door opened. She was dressed in a classy pantsuit that looked as if it came straight from Lauren Bacall’s closet, and her chestnut hair was in neat waves that gleamed like silk in the sun. Her makeup, what little she wore, was perfect and accented her green gold eyes and flawless skin.

“Thank you all for coming,” announced Amelia, looking straight ahead and apparently ignoring everyone as she talked. It was typical for her to either stare at her notes or a fixed point in the back of whatever room she was speaking in. Most thought it was because of nerves that came from talking in front of crowds. “As many of you are aware, I have been receiving numerous, unwanted proposals since the day I turned eighteen. That was ten years ago. I am very tired of it, so I offer a challenge to everyone interested.”

The crowd was completely silent as they hung on her every word, even as she held up a key. It was a simple, ordinary house key that a person could find in any hardware store, nothing special about it at all.

“This is the key to my front door,” she announced. “Tomorrow, it will be hanging around my cat’s neck. I will only marry the person who manages to get this key from my cat. Don’t bother trying to cheat. I will know. The two rules are as follows: Nothing lethal or potentially maiming in getting the key, and no one is allowed on my property without the key as it also unlocks my front gate.”

Questions were being shouted at her from both reporters and the people who had gathered,but Amelia ignored all of them as she turned and walked back into her home, leaving a stunned crowd behind. Many left, the reporters to file the story with their respective news agencies while the citizens went to start planning on how to catch a cat. (It was the most popular Google search that night, leading to some confused people at the search engine’s office.)

The next morning, there was a crowd of men around Amelia’s property, armed with everything from snares to ropes to even a couple of fishing nets on poles. All were waiting, hoping to be the one to catch the cat and  _ finally _ win the lovely and rich Amelia for themselves. The sun was sparkling off the dew decorating the freshly cut lawn, and the sky was clear without even a single white cloud to mar the expanse of blue.

There was a click of a lock, and everyone held their breath, tensing as the front door swung open. A sleek cinnamon colored cat stepped out onto the front step, the sunlight glinting off of the key around the animal’s neck, and every eye focused on the cat even as Amelia’s assistant stepped into the doorway to address the feline.

“I hope you return by dinner, young lady. Miss Cabot has planned for your favorite treat tonight,” she stated, and nodded when the cat meowed apparently in response. The door closed, leaving the coveted cat sitting on the step where a paw was thoroughly washed as if she knew she was perfectly safe where she was.

Someone started whistling, the sort of sound meant to coax a curious critter closer. As if that was some predetermined signal, noises of all sorts sprang up around the property, a cacophony of desperate men trying to coax a cat to come to them. 

Instead, the cat sneezed, stood up, stretched, and vanished. 

Startled cries and yelps mixed with the sounds of people falling over each other as they all tried to catch the cat, and the wall of men around the property  _ surged _ in the direction of the noise, each hoping to get the cat even as they only ended up tangling themselves up in each other. It took them several precious minutes to get untangled enough to be able to stand up again, but by that time, no one knew where the cat had gone. 

Desperate, they scattered, all going to search for the cat, never noticing the shadow perched on a tree branch, tail twitching so slightly as the men ran off.

***

I looked at the latest advertisement that had gone up on the public board at the Hallowed Grounds Coffee Shop and snickered as I pulled it down. Apparently, someone was desperate enough to advertise the Cabot cat as their own and offered a reward to anyone who had information on her location and/or possible capture. It had been almost two months since the cat had been let loose, and it had been hilarious to see various men chasing it all over town, attempting to capture it with crude traps, and a couple had even hired pest control companies to set up live traps for the dear.

Walking back behind the counter, I tossed the “lost cat” flyer into the trash before glancing at the clock. It was about time for my visitor, and today I had a treat for her. I grabbed a shallow bowl off a shelf before digging a can of tuna out of my lunch bag. The tuna went into a dish after it had been drained of water, and the bowl was filled with water. Carefully balancing the two, I walked out the back door and into the alley where I put the two dishes down before retreating several feet.

Just as I crouched down to sit on my heels, a slender figure slipped from a fire escape to the closed dumpster before finally landing silently on the ground. With a friendly “meow”, Miss Cabot as I had taken to calling the cat in question, trotted over and sat down, sticking her nose in the water.

“Someone put up a flier, claiming you were theirs and offering a reward for your safe return, Miss Cabot,” I remarked, humor in my voice, and she twitched an ear in what could be irritation. “It didn’t stay up long before it was file 13.” I hummed and rested my arms on my knees as I watched the sunlight play across her lovely fur. It reminded me of this blanket my mom once had that we use to wrap up in on cold, rainy days and read. I still had that blanket because my mom gave it to me when I moved out, but my chances of curling up with a good book on a rainy day were greatly diminished due to my recent promotion to daytime manager at the shop. However, I  _ did _ have a day off coming up and there was the possibility of rain that day...

I shook my head and pushed those thoughts aside for now. There would be time to plan a rainy day reading later. “I brought tuna for you today because I was out of chicken, and Frankie stole the last of my hamburger to make chili which I don’t think you would want to indulge in. He spices it like he’s trying to remove wallpaper with the fumes coming off of that.”

Frankie was a great guy, but he cooked like everything was from India or China that came through Louisiana. I made the mistake of trying a bite of his latest creation once, and I swear I didn’t have taste buds for a week after.

“The weather is talking about the possibility of rain on Thursday, so I’ll keep a window open for you if you insist on being out in that sort of weather,” I remarked, standing up and dusting my hands off on my jeans as I looked around. I had the sensation of someone watching me, and I didn’t like it at all. “Might want to avoid this place for the next few days. Someone might get the idea that they can catch you here while you’re resting.”

I grinned at the unimpressed look I received as she finished up her snack before she turned and vanished down the alley just as heavy footsteps pounced up behind me. I barely had a chance to get out of the way before some idiot with a gun in his hands barreled past her, swearing up a storm.

“Gun’s aren’t exactly non-lethal,” I shouted after him, gathering up the dishes and heading back inside. If he responded, I didn’t hear it as the door shut behind me and washed the dishes in the sink before putting them up for the next time Miss Cabot came to visit. I did take a few moments to call the Cabot Cat Hotline to warn Miss Cabot’s assistant about the idiot with the gun, leaving a message when it went to voicemail. That had been something the more level headed of us asked for so we could help out just a bit.


	2. Only Forever Not Long at All WIP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WIP of Draco and the Labyrinth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse any misspellings. Was working on a bluetooth keyboard.

Draco stood tall and proud in the center of the circle, looking very out of place among the rich jewelry and formal robes the rest of those gathered were wearing. He was clad in sensible dragon hide with his school bag slung across his chest, stuffed with everything he could think of that he might need for his upcoming challenge including refreshments. He was uncertain how long this challenge would take, but he knew the dangers of accepting food from the Fae Realm. If one was not enchanted to forget their lives, they might find themselves changed in other less desirable ways. 

Suddenly, all sound ceased, and a shiver ran down Draco's spine as he spotted a white glow in the night sky. It was obviously moving, and he held his breath as it drew closer. In a few moments, the glow formed into a barn owl, and Draco watched as it flew directly towards the circle of Purebloods. It was much more graceful than the usual postal owls, and just as it reached Draco, there was a brilliant flash of light and a boom of thunder. Instinctively, Draco brought one hand up to shield his face as his wand slid into the other, ready to defend himself as needed. When nothing happened after a few heartbeats, he cautiously lowered his hand to find a powerful being of legend standing there with his hands on his hips and an amused smirk on his face.

"Your Majesty," breathed Draco, sinking to a knee and bowing his head out of respect. There were rustlings of cloth around him that told Draco the rest of the circle was paying their respects to this post powerful and dangerous of Fae, because he was neither Light nor Dark but simply Was.

"So polite and respectful, young Draco," purred the dark voice of the Goblin King, and the blond Slytherin barely managed to keep from watching as he heard soft footsteps start circling him. He could practically feel the Goblin King's eyes on him, examining him as if he could see beneath Draco's skin, and he was rather unsettled by the idea of being that thoroughly examined. "Much more so than I had been led to believe. It will be amusing to see if that polite respect remains in the face of frustration."

Draco gritted his teeth even as an embarrassed heat spread across his cheeks. His mother was constantly warning him that his temper would be his undoing some day. He did try to keep it under control, but it was so very difficult at times. Especially around certain people as if he simply couldn't help himself as they brought out the worst in him.

His bag twitched as if someone had tugged on it, and Draco looked up to find the Goblin King holding a crystal ball which contained several items Draco had packed. With a flick of his wrist, the Goblin King sent it floating through the air like a soap bubble to rest in his mother's skirt.

"You won't need those, but I admire your preparations," remarked the Fae, resuming his circling, and Draco stared straight ahead as the Goblin King prowled around him. "Queens Mab and Tatiana have graciously allowed me to challenge you on their behalf, and so you shall be treated like every other Runner who is trying to win back their Wished Away."

Wind suddenly howled through the clearing, nearly blowing Draco over even as he covered his head with his arms, confused as to what was going on. When it died a few long minutes later, Draco looked around, expecting to see devastation and downed trees. Instead, he discovered he was completely alone with the Goblin King in the pristine clearing.

"Where are they?" gasped Draco, staggering to his feet as he looked around wildly. There were no signs that anyone else had ever been there. What had happened to his parents?

"They wait for you at the Castle Beyond the Goblin City at the heart of the Labyrinth," announced the Goblin King, walking towards Draco while rolling a crystal ball over his fingers. It was almost hypnotic with how the moonlight seemed to flicker and dance across the smooth surface, drawing his attention and keeping it as there seemed to be images contained within.

"I offer you your dreams, young Draco, as a gift," murmured the Goblin King. His voice was soft, soothing and seemed to coax Draco into accepting the gift being offered, and Draco walked forward a few steps, drawn by the image within the crystal. "However, dreams don't belong to a young man forced to perform for ungrateful parents, never able to shine in their eyes. Forget about them, and your dreams will become a reality."

Unable to help it, Draco stared into the flickering crystal, now able to make out details. He was his parents standing behind him, beaming in pride of his accomplishments as Granger bawled over how much better he was in school than she. Potter was also on his knees, begging Draco for a second chance to become his friend and praising his skills as a Seeker. Yet, as wonderful as the image was, Draco couldn't help but notice how  _ wrong _ it was too. While Granger seemed obsessed with her grades, she also worked twice as hard as any of them due to the disadvantage she had as a Muggleborn, and truthfully Potter was the only one who could actually challenge him in Quiddich.

"As pleasant as the offer is, I must decline, sire," Draco announced with a respectful bow that also removed that so very tempting sight from his eyes. Straightening, he fixed his gaze firmly on the Fae's face. "No dream is worth forgetting about my family and friends."

Apparently, that had been the wrong decision in the Goblin King's opinion as his face went from friendly and warm to cold and distant before the crystal fell from his fingers. It struck the ground and exploded in a flash of light that temporarily rendered Draco blind. When his vision cleared, he discovered he had been transported to a brown hill under an orange sky next to a black twisted tree. Standing under that tree was the Goblin King, his high collared cape fluttering around him.

"You have thirteen hours to reach the Heart of the Labyrinth located in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City," announced the Goblin King, and a large Gothic clock appeared with thirteen hours marked instead of the usual twelve. The pendulum which had been motionless started to move, filling the air with th ticking of gears, and the minute hand clicked forward as Draco watched. The Goblin King faded into nothing, taking the clock with him as his parting words hung in the air. "I'd turn back if I were you."

"Not bloody likely," muttered Draco before turning to the sprawling labyrinth located at the bottom of the hill. It seemed to twist and double back on itself, making it impossible t trace any path with just his gaze without getting dizzy. No, the only way he was going to solve that puzzle was by walking it himself.

Squaring his shoulders, Draco started down the hill, determined to win the freedom of his family and friends.


	3. A Kind of Magic WIP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore meets his new neighbors.

Albus Dumbledore casually made his way towards the large doors that had appeared in the hills near the Forbidden Forest. It was rather easy to find the place due to the footprints in the snow, as if those who made them didn’t care about being followed. Madam Rosmerta had contacted him yesterday evening about the strangers who appeared in Hogsmeade, visited the bookstore, and briefly wandered through the village before leaving again. The local constable had followed them only to report that they had vanished into a hillside from the footprints.

Normally, Dumbledore wouldn’t be approaching something potentially dangerous, but the beings hadn’t shown they were any threat. He wanted to see if they were a danger to the school before summoning the Aurors as he didn’t want to aggravate them and have the unexpected neighbors turn their attention to the school. Being a Monday during Winter Break, he had managed to arrange with his Heads of Houses to alert the DMLE if he didn’t send a message back in an appropriate time. Minerva had berate him for taking unnecessary risks, but he pointed out that the safety of the children was his responsibility first.

He paused as he reached the large doors, and he took a few moments to admire the intricate curls carved on the silvery purple wood. It was almost ethereal with how the patterns swirled up the doors, and at the very top of the doors was a large expanse of stone with five words carved into it, surprisingly in English.

What is Worth Fighting For?

He paused, staring at those words as he turned that question over in his mind. A very interesting question, and he wondered what the answer was for those that lived behind these doors. For him, the answer was waiting for his return at Hogwarts. He pushed the question aside for now as he stepped up and lifted one of the great rings set in the door, letting it fall to the wood with a loud thump. He sincerely hoped that was the best way to get their attention as he didn’t see any other way of opening the doors themselves.

A few seconds later, the doors silently opened to reveal an open field of stone and dirt that led off to a more colorful landscape of flowered fields and larger trees. Carefully, he walked through the doors and wasn’t fully surprise when they swung shut behind him. There wasn’t the feel of an impending threat, more like a wary watchfulness, and he found himself looking around in awe as he moved farther into this land of spring. A flash of color caught his attention, and he looked to his right to find a large cliff that had been carved into a variety of structures that rose to the very top of the stone. There were people moving over what looked like bridges and balconies that seemed to connect the various levels and buildings.

“ Who you be?” asked a deep and rather gruff voice behind him, and Dumbledore turned to find a strange being standing there. It was hard to tell how tall the being was as it was rather hunched over with long arms and legs, as if it was more use to going about on four legs than two, and it had bright green skin with even brighter green hair in a sort of cock’s comb style framed by large, bat like ears. From its mouth protruded two large tusks that Dumbledore was sure would be right at home on an elephant, but aside from all of this, what had him staring the most was the plant cradled in a pair of three fingered hands.

It was a rather large specimen of mimbulus mimbletonia, and one that Professor Sprout would be overjoyed to even get a few minutes with.

“ Ah, forgive my staring at your interesting plant,” began Dumbledore with a smile as he folded his hands in front of him. “I am Albus Dumbledore and I was hoping to speak to whomever was in charge? In a way, I live close by and wanted to get acquainted with my new neighbors.”

For some reason, that sent the being into a deep laughter for a few minutes before it sobered and shook its head slightly. “You be wantin’ de Twelve den. Come wit me.”

Turning, the being started walking away, and Dumbledore mentally frowned before following it. “Who are the Twelve?” he inquired. “And how long have they been here?”

“ De Twelve rule here,” the being stated, its words only slightly slurred due to the tusks it spouted. “Nor’dris’drasil has been here for thousand years. Only dose who can live together peacefully can stay.”

Well, that certainly raised his hopes for a peaceful meeting between them. He looked around with even greater interest as they passed other beings when they entered a set of halls leading deeper into the cliff. There were some like his guide with the obvious females standing up straight with smaller tusks, some brutish green and brown skinned folk that looked strong enough to wrestle Hagrid and possibly win, some minotaur-like folk, humans, and what he could almost believe were elves with both normal skin and shades of purple. The strangest of all were the wolf folk who intermingled freely and were not shunned in any way. It made Dumbledore’s heart jump with hope to see such a thing, and he didn’t realize he was staring at a wolf female for too long until his guide laughed again.

“ Stare too long, an’ Vanessa be takin’ ye up on dat offer,” his guide teased.

Dumbledore huffed a soft laugh of his own. “I’m afraid that even with as attractive as the Lady Vanessa is, I am far past the time when I either chased or was chased around the bedroom.”

That seemed to set his guide off into fresh gales of laughter, and the being shook his head as he led Dumbledore to a pair of ten foot high doors that opened as they approached. He walked in and the first thing he noticed was the scent of old paper and ink, the delightful mix that always meant books and knowledge. The second was the great cavernous space around him, and he paused to look around at the room he was in only to gape at how large it was. From what little he could see, it was at least as large as Hogwarts itself, and it was full of books and scrolls. His fingers itched to start exploring the knowledge that surrounded him.

A polite cough caught his attention, and Dumbledore found that he had automatically followed his guide up to a balcony that overlooked a colorful valley that stretched out beyond the wide arches. In the center of the balcony were twelve beings that matched the general description given to him by Madam Rosmerta, sitting in various couches and chairs.

“ Jih’nesh said you wished to meet with your neighbors?” inquired the male who was pale of skin and silver haired. There was a touch of amusement on all of their faces, but Dumbledore ignored that as he bowed politely to them.

“ My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” he began before straightening to smile at them. “As you had only just made yourselves known yesterday, I thought it the polite thing to do to come for a quick visit.”

“ Why is the headmaster of a school visiting us?” asked a female with dark aqua colored hair and blue skin as she tilted her head slightly. “Would you not be busy with the students?”

“ Most of the students are with their families to celebrate the winter holidays, my lady,” Dumbledore explained, hoping to lay their worry about him abandoning his duties to meet with them. “Those that have remained at the school are being protected by the other professors there, and they will contact our law enforcement if I do not send a message back to reassure them of my safety or even return at a decent time.”

It was a bit of a warning, but they seemed more amused than threatened. How very interesting, especially when everyone glanced towards the male with the long black hair and tanned skin who seemed to be sitting in the middle of the group. Perhaps that one was the leader of the group?

“Would you care to join us for refreshment, Headmaster?” inquired the lady with the purple hair and deep pink skin with a bright smile. “Or would you prefer a tour of our home first?”

“As much as I would love to explore this wondrous place, I believe a discussion over refreshments is required first,” Abuls said, folding his hands before him and giving a light bow. “Just to ensure there are no misunderstandings between us that lead to harsh actions later.”

The pale man who was undoubtedly the one Madam Rosmerta saw yesterday offered up what could only be described as a Slytherin smirk. “Headmaster, may I be the first to say that if any were to raise a hand against us, we would simply close our doors and never emerge again.”


	4. A Second Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Manor for an adult sleepover.

Tugging his sleeves a bit farther down his arms, Abel followed Lucius through the familiar hallways to the ballroom where he had been told a blanket fort had been set up for them. He wasn’t uncomfortable in the blond’s company wearing only sleeping pants made from a sensible cotton, but he did hate the thought that they had cut their evening out short because he had been hypervigilant when it came to their surroundings. The only times he had gone into a club before had been to remove a very young Catarina Sforza from the crowds and return her to her home. He hadn’t realized just how exposed he had felt in the middle of the dancefloor with Narcissa until he had been there. 

He opened his mouth to apologize for ruining the evening when a deep and pleasure filled moan spilled out of the ballroom, and Abel blushed at the thought of Narcissa entertaining her lover before he pushed that aside. There was no way she would do anything so crass when she had company over. Stepping inside the ballroom, he blinked at the sight of what looked like a sort of large tent made from various blankets and sheets, and Lucius chuckled as he started towards the apparent doorway. Abel followed, ducking out of habit, and paused at the sight that greeted him.

The soft lights gave everything a comforting glow as Narcissa sat on Severus’ hips, her hands gliding over his bare back and coaxing those noises out of the dark haired man. Lucius wandered over to flop on a group of pillows near Severus’ head, and he gestured for Abel to join him. Abel shook his head at his own foolishness as he carefully picked his way around Narcissa and Severus to sit next to Lucius, curling his arms around his knees as he watched her massage Severus’ back.

“There. Now you don’t feel like you’re one mass of knots,” Narcissa stated a few minutes later as she slipped off of Severus, and he hummed as he shifted, sprawling against a mound of pillows that looked like it a sort of lounge. She grinned and looked up at Lucius and Abel, curling a finger at them. “Since my hands have oil on them already, I can help both of you relax as well.”

“Go ahead, Abel. She can rub me out after turning you into a puddle,” Lucius remarked, nudging Abel’s shoulder with his own. 

“I don’t wish to be a bother,” began Abel, not wanting them to put themselves out any further than they had already, but he found himself shifting towards Narcissa, his curiosity getting the better of him. He offered her a wry smile as he shrugged out of his robe, laying it aside, before he stretched out on the pillows. “I’ve never had a massage before.”

“Please let me know if I hit any ticklish or painful spots for you,” Narcissa murmured, settling next to him with a soft hand resting on his shoulder, and Abel closed his eyes, resting his head on his folded arms. 

“I will,” he murmured, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He trusted her to not hurt him, but some instincts were harder to calm down than others. When he had been essentially bed bound for the boils, he had depended on both Narcissa and Lucius to see to his interests and health, but now he was perfectly healthy and trying to trust someone with his back. He gritted his teeth as he felt her push down on something hard under his skin that was not his wings, and he grabbed onto a topic of conversation to distract himself. “What exactly happens at a sleepover?”

“It varies between individuals,” Lucius remarked, and Abel opened his eyes to look at the attractive blond that wasn’t working on his back. “The basic is just having fun with each other, staying up far too late in the night, eating food that is unhealthy for you, and perhaps even playing a few games.” Lucius gestured around them with an elegant hand. “For us, our sleepovers sometimes include drinking games, a lot of laughter, and occasionally less clothing than we currently are wearing.”

“Merlin and Morgana! Your back is nothing but knots and rocks!” swore Narcissa, and Abel yelped as he felt a flash of pain through his shoulder before something seemed to unravel. He could feel her slowly working her way down his back to where his wings emerged, and he was relaxing more and more with each knotted muscle she managed to coax into unraveling. 

His eyes were drifting shut when the feel of the hands on his back changed from Narcissa’s soft hands to larger, male hands. Cracking open an eye, Abel twisted around to find Lucius kneeling next to him with a small smile before the blond tossed his head slightly to one side. Following the direction of that gesture, Abel saw Narcissa sitting next to Severus, massaging her hands.

“You have so many rocks, she needed to take a few minutes to give her hands a chance to relax, so I agreed to take over,” Lucius remarked, digging his fingers into a knot Narcissa had been working on, and Abel groaned as that muscle relaxed. There was some pain and tenderness in his back, but it was overpowered by the feeling of relief from the constant ache of tight muscles. 

Lucien’s hands moved a bit farther down Abel’s back, pressed down, and Abel snarled as he twisted away when pain exploded through his back. He curled up, back to a cloth wall as he worked on simply breathing through the sharp pain that seemed strangely familiar. It was something that he hadn’t experienced in a very long time which probably meant it had to do with his wings, which made sense with where the pain had originated from. He managed to open his eyes and was grateful to see that none of them were hovering over him or trying to accidentally crowd him in an attempt to help.

“May I cast a diagnostic spell on you?” inquired Lucius, his head tilted in a curious manner as he looked at Abel, and the silver haired man managed to nod even if he couldn’t unclench his jaw enough to speak. He was pretty sure being accidentally kicked in the balls wouldn’t hurt as badly as that press against his back. Lucius waved his wand and a stream of information that Abel couldn’t understand spilled out of the dark wood. Something in Lucius’ shoulders relaxed as he put his wand away. “You simply have a blocked preen gland at the base of your wings. An easy enough thing to fix, and you’ll feel much better when it’s done.”

It had been a couple of years, but Abel’s right preen gland was prone to becoming blocked, something that no one had been able to explain. However, he had never had anyone press on it that hard which explained why it had hurt so badly. Abel nodded his understanding and managed to unclench his jaw. “I’ll fix it later.”

Some time in a warm shower and perhaps Paula gently working on the gland would fix it. He’d have to keep a closer eye on it for the next few months to prevent it from becoming blocked again. 

“Or I could help you fix it now.” 

Abel slowly sat up as he looked at Lucius, confused, and the wizard smile. “I raise abraxans, and they have preen glands at the base of their wings to keep their feathers looking nice,” Lucius explained with a slight gesture of a hand and a shrug. “Sometimes one of them ends up with a problem where I have to help unplug a preen gland before it turns into something more serious.”

It was the long habit of hiding that kept Abel from instantly agreeing even as he bowed his head to hide behind his hair. He had rarely encountered humans who didn’t run screaming at the sight of his Crusnik form, but the Malfoys had not seemed at all phased by the sight of him when Greyback attacked. Even the other magicals who had been there had not so much as blinked an eye when he shifted. While they might have been distracted by the werewolves at the time, later in the safety of Malfoy Manor, none had screamed “monster” or reacted in a negative way, even going as far as to tentatively extend offers of House Alliance. 

And now, here was another demonstration of tolerance that he wasn’t used to from people who by every right should want him as far away from their lives as possible. Especially considering how the Catholic Church had treated many magicals over the years. All they were offering was a relaxing evening and help with a minor health problem he had. He couldn’t remember the last time he had such an offer.

Biting his lip, Abel nodded his acceptance of Lucius’s help, and he stretched out on the blankets again at the blond’s urgings. He hesitated a few seconds before shifting to his Crusnik form only to hiss in discomfort when he attempted to fold his wings against his back. The muscles were pressing uncomfortably against that blocked preen gland, and he couldn’t close his wings without putting more pressure on it.

“Easy, Abel,” murmured Lucius as gentle hands brushed over his wings, and Abel gave a soft sound as his eyes drifted shut under the soft touch. There was a tisking before more hands were in his wings, straightening his feathers and removing dead ones, and he knew it would be so very easy to fall asleep under their attention. 

The soft pop of a house elf earned a twitch from Abel, and he moaned in relief at the feel of a warm towel on his back, soothing the ache in that gland. 


	5. A second Chance 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A run in with Lockhart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in no way finished and may be totally changed later.

Harry watched as Alexi picked up one of the books, slowly turning it over in his hand. “ _ Voyages with Vampires,” _ he read, his voice mild, but there was an obvious note of annoyance to his words. “Tell me, Mr. Lockhart, do you often insult half your possible audience with your book titles?”

“It is just an alliteration, Your Highness,” protested Lockhart with a wide smile that had far too many teeth in Harry’s opinion. Alexi said nothing as he opened the book, starting to skim through it. “Merely a play on words to catch the attention of a possible reader.”

“You do not believe your name alone is enough for that?” inquired the prince, his head lifting from the book to stare at the flamboyant author. “You were in Lithuania when you ran into this Methuselah, one Lord Kaiser Grimsbane, and after your encounter, Lord Grimsbane was unable to consume anything but lettuce. Do I have that correct?”

“Yes you do, sire,” agreed Lockhart, still showing off that supposedly charming smile. “It was  _ quite  _ the encounter, but I was quite satisfied with doing my part for humanity.”

Alexi snapped the book shut with a quick flex of his fingers before tossing it quite forcefully on the floor, the loud bang echoing through the shop and silencing everyone in the vicinity as all eyes turned on them. “How interesting then that _ I  _ happened to have been in that country at the time you apparently met Lord Grimsbane and ‘cured’ him of his need for Aqua Vitae, and I certainly don’t remember meeting someone as…  _ flamboyant _ as you when I was a guest of Lord Grimsbane, especially since we both enjoyed a delightful steak dinner before I left the next day.”

“Wh… what are you saying?” gasped Lockhart, staring at Alexi with a hurt expression.

“I’m saying that your book is nothing but slander and falsehoods, and I would have to wonder how truthful your other books are,” Alexi announced, a definite growl to his words. “If one is full of lies, what is contained within the covers of your other books, Mister Gilderoy Lockhart?”

There were shocked gasps and a couple of mutterings, but Alexi ignored them as he glanced at Harry. “Come. We have to finish your school shopping.”

Nodding, Harry turned to follow Alexi out of the store, quite done with Lockhart’s nonsense, and they had just reached the door when the furious voice flew through the air along with the spell. “ _ Accio _ veil!”

Snarling, Alexi whirled around, one arm coming up to cover his face but not before there was the  _ pop _ of a camera flash going off. Harry whirled around as well, his wand coming up to find the summoned veil had wrapped around Lockhart, pinning his arms to his chest, and his temper snapped. How  _ dare _ this man attack Alexi in such a manner! 

“Gilderoy Lockhart, I could forgive you for your assault upon my person,” Harry announced, drawing himself up as he did his best to imitate Lucius Malfoy even as he drew on his etiquette lessons for this. He would have to present it correctly to ensure this fool suffered. “However, your assault upon my guardian is unforgivable. I, Harry James Potter, Duke of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Gryffindor and Potter, do hereby declare Gilderoy Lockhart, and any other names by which he might be known past, present, or future, to be an Enemy of the House of Potter and House of Gryffindor!”

“I shall be pressing charges for assault of both my ward and myself,” Alexi growled before his eyes cut towards the camera man. “Petros, the camera.”

The man sputtered for a few moments before Petros walked over and simply  _ loomed _ over the man, a glare firm on his face. Then with a disappointed sigh, the man handed over the camera and picture plates. Harry frowned and pointed his wand at the photographer,deciding to not take a chance. 

“ _ Accio _ all the pictures and picture plates!” he called, and the man yelped as about a dozen more pictures and plates flew through the air to hit Harry, knocking him down. While he was glad to have learned that charm from Remus during his summer tutoring, Harry wished the older man would have warned him about how fast the summoned objects traveled.

Mrs. Weasley huffed and tutted before walking over with an armful of cloth. “Your majesty, may I offer a replacement until your veil can be retrieved?” she said, holding out the cloth. “The Marquessa Malfoy loaned the kerchief for the spellwork.”


	6. Discovering Relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Discovering Relations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally *all* I have of this story.

It was with a sense of deja vu that Jack was sitting at the flat rock on a chunk of ice a few days later, only this time there was enough food for three people to share and an extra dish on the rock. He also wasn't alone as Bunny had insisted on being there this time and was currently pacing between the rock and the fairy circle, too nervous to sit still. Jack honestly thought it was amusing that it was Bunny who couldn't stay still when Jack was often accused of that same thing.

“ You need to relax, Grampa” Jack said, a smile on his face for the dirty look Bunny sent his way. “The Púca will be here. A favor is owed between us.” Not to mention all the  _ Aos Sí _ were highly curious if they had allowed the Púca that had challenged Jack to bring him to the Otherworld. Even if they had been practically demanding that Jack be the one to provide them ways to verify his claims. For a race that was as long lived as Bunny, they didn't seem to have common sense. Why ask  _ him _ ways to prove his story? If he had been on Pitch's side, then he would have just lied about everything, including how to find the proof they wanted.

“ Are ya  _ sure _ they'll show?” Bunny asked for what seemed like the hundredth time, glancing over at Jack, and the Winter Spirit sighed, rolling his eyes. He tapped the ground with his staff and sent a trail of frost over the grass and up Bunny's foot, getting a startled yelp and a few swears as the frost melted from his fur.

“ Yes, I'm sure,” drawled Jack, shaking his head. “Just sit down and wait. The Púca will either be here by Moonrise or he won't and then we try again tomorrow night.” When Bunny paced close enough, Jack reached out and hooked him with his staff, tugging him towards the rock. “It will be okay, Bunny. Really. There is time now that they know of you and you know of them. Contact's been made, and curiosities have been stirred. It's their move now. All we can do is invite them to the table and hope.”

With a huff, Bunny sat down on the grass, letting Jack remove the hook from around him. “I just...” Bunny sighed, shaking his head as his ears drooped. “Even after your meeting, I'm nervous.”

Jack knew that Bunny was really afraid that the Púca and the  _ Aos Sí _ would just ignore them and return to their lives in the Otherworld. The Guardian of Fun placed a soothing hand on Bunny's shoulder. “I believe and I have Hope.” He grinned, wanting to lighten the mood a bit. “Besides, when have you ever known a trickster to not be curious? It's what gets us into trouble so much.”

After all, that had been how the Guardians had managed to grab him long enough to get him to the Workshop when Pitch had made his move against them. A flash of gray and a rustle of leaves as Bunny raced past him too fast to be seen, and Jack had followed as if a leash had been wrapped around his neck. It was one of the reasons he had been on the Naughty List for so long was that curiosity of his getting him into trouble. Well that and trying to break into the Workshop so often.

Bunny snorted and bopped him on the arm, causing Jack to laugh as he danced away from Bunny to resume his seat next to the rock. He hummed and pointed a finger at the Guardian of Hope. “You have also forgotten that the Púca believes that I owe him a favor, when in fact, he owes me information.”

“And what brings you to this conclusion, Jackson Overland Frost?” inquired the familiar voice of the Púca, and Jack yelped in surprise as he jumped on his icy seat, falling onto the ground in an ungraceful sprawl. There was a low growl and suddenly, Bunny was standing over Jack, a boomerang in one hand. Across the stone, with a look of what could only be called amusement on his face, was the Púca from a few days ago. “If I recall correctly, you willingly admitted defeat.”

Rising to his feet, Jack dusted off his pants before smirking at the Púca. “The rules of the challenge were for me to stay on your back until the moon reached the western horizon  _ of that same night _ .” Jack shook a finger at the Púca. “When the Aurora went off,  _ five _ days had passed. So, therefore, I won.”

Laughing, the Púca shivered and soon the dark haired man was standing there again, his amber eyes sparking with good humor and more than a touch of mischief. “As you speak the truth, I shall concede the contest to you.”

Grinning, Jack reached down and picked up a loaf of bread that had been shaped in the form of a Y this time and held out a corner. It was the only way he could think of to include Bunny into the breaking of the bread to ensure hospitality between them during this meeting. The Púca grasped one point while Bunny took the last one, and they twisted the bread apart before settling at the flat rock turned table. The food was passed around and split between them, and once each of them had a few bites, Jack grinned at the Púca. “So about that information…”

The Púca hummed and glanced over at Bunny who had managed to settle down even if he was watching the Púca in a mix of hope and wariness, as if expecting the Horse to either whisk Jack off to the Underground or vanish before answering any questions. 

“When the Golden General fell to Darkness, the Clans sent those they could to the aid of Tsar Lunar,” began the Púca, leaning back against a moss covered rock that was suddenly behind him. “On the advice of the Rabbit Elders, the rest prepared the ships and those that remained for evacuation, some of the younger ones and the eldest volunteering to buy time for those that wished to escape and create a home elsewhere. All who volunteered knew that they wouldn’t be meeting up with the others in this life and accepted that. The one exception was any with young or expecting  _ had _ to evacuate to ensure all Clans survived.”

The Púca looked at Bunny with a hooded gaze. “We were very surprised when there was never any signal from the Rabbit Clan as they were the most prepared for the evacuation of their planet.”

“He knew we guarded the Last Light,” Bunny replied, his voice soft. “The pirates and his other minions had encircled our home, destroying every ship that launched as they knew the Light would survive.” He shook his head. “Six of the fighters ran between me and the shadow ships to ensure the Last Light could escape. The Elders ordered it as we were still under the Tsar’s orders to protect the Light at all cost.”

“And the Rabbit Clan was nothing if not dutiful,” the Púca stated, his voice understanding, and Jack watched some tension slide out of Bunny’s shoulders that the Winter Spirit hadn’t known was there. In a flash, Jack realized that Bunny had been slightly afraid of being branded a coward by the Púca when he had only been following orders which forced him to leave his Clan to die. “When word reached us of the Rabbit Clan’s slaughter, we fled our homes, leaving those behind who insisted on buying the rest time to hide.” He shook his head, black hair whispering around his shoulders. “If the Rabbit Clan couldn’t stop the Dark General, none of us would have a chance as they were the greatest fighters among us.”

“Are there other clans aside from the Horse here?” asked Bunny, his eyes a touch wide.

“There’s the Cats in the far north where the longboats sailed the waves,” began the Púca, a small smile on his face. “A group of Dogs in Wales that have struck up relations with some Fae there with many a human believing they are some sort of harbinger of death, and some Goats up in Scotland.” Now the smile was much more mischievous. “They have this ongoing prank with some of the people there involving getting them drunk and leaving them in a field of sheep.”

“So many survived,” whispered Bunny, his eyes closing as his ears dropped, and for a second, Jack thought he had fainted from the news. It took him a few moments to realize that Bunny was trying hard not to cry in the sheer realization that he wasn’t the last, even beyond Jack. Reaching over, Jack rested a comforting hand on Bunny’s arm, but he was completely surprised when the Púca shifted to gather Bunny in his arms, tucking his head under the Púca’s chin.

“Rest Warrior, there are others to support you and take watch,” the Púca stated in a rather formal way, his Irish accent vanishing to be replaced by a stranger sort of accent that Jack had never heard before. “The Clans support and welcome you home.”

Bunny shook his head. “My watch continues until the Enemy is conquered, unable to strike back at those that defy him,” he replied, and Jack had the strangest feeling he was watching a ritual that was so old it had never been seen on this planet before. “The Light is guarded still and shall not fall to Shadows as long as I live.”

“Stubborn Rabbit,” huffed the Púca, shaking his head and ruffling the fur on top of Bunny’s head with his chin even as his Irish accent returned. “You’re not alone any more. Even beyond the other Guardians.”

“Trust a Rabbit to be stubborn,” drawled a new voice, this one with a distinct Scottish burr, and Jack’s head whipped around to find large cat, a huge dog, and a goat, all as black as the Púca in his horse form. There was a faint sound from Bunny, and Jack watched as two of the new arrivals suddenly took human or mostly human form. The goat man looked more like a satyr with a kilt wrapped around his hips, and the cat became an anthropomorphic woman wearing a dress that reminded Jack of some of the pictures in Jamie’s history book when he had been going through a “Vikings are COOL” faze.

The dog however, was eyeing Jack’s staff, and Jack grinned, wagging a finger at him. “Nu uh, Pooch,” drawled the Winter Spirit. “That is most definitely  _ not _ for fetch.”

An almost defiant look appeared on the dog’s face, and it lunged for Jack only to yelp in surprise when Jack suddenly shot up in the air. Twisting, Jack brought the crook down on a black rump, and the dog yelped again when cold frost exploded over its coat, making it look like it had been dipped in white glitter.

“Bad doggie,” Jack stated, landing on the top of his staff and crouched there. The cat woman and the goat man were howling with laughter as the dog yelped again, finally getting a clear look at its coat. “No treat for you.”

The dog snorted and shifted to a rather brawny man dressed similar to the Púca but without the chains. “Yes, laugh it up, Elli and Alastair,” grumbled the dog, rubbing briskly at his arms to get rid of the last of the frost. “But neither of you thought to test the young one.”

“He is a Winter Spirit, Caerwyn” pointed out the woman, shaking her head as her tail flicked through the air in amusement. “And from the looks of it, the one the Winter Queen has been bragging about to whomever she happens to catch.”

Snorting, Caerwyn turned to the Púca and raised a brow at Bunny who was still held in the Horse’s arms. “At least now I know why you sent word that there was proof of the Lost Clan’s survival, Nuallán, but how long have you known?”

“Only since young Jack here challenged me, and then surprised the Court by suddenly transforming into a Rabbit kit,” remarked Nuallán, jerking his chin towards Jack. He removed an arm from around Bunny and motioned them forward. “Come join us. We have broken bread together.”

The other three moved to settle around the rock, and even Jack slipped off his staff to rejoin them. He only blinked at the sight of the now larger rock and extra plates. Bunny shook himself, coming back from wherever his mind had gone, and he shifted away from Nuallán to settle closer to Jack in an obviously protective maneuver. Jack just rolled his eyes and smirked at the others. 

“Relax, Grandpa,” teased Jack, poking Bunny in the ribs where he knew the Guardian of Hope was ticklish and was rewarded with a squirm and a glare. “If they wanted to do anything, they already wouldn’t have done it.”

“The young one is correct,” remarked Alastair, licking his lips clean of honey and butter. “Nuallán sent the Clans word about a Rabbit survivor, and we were tasked by our Elders to verify or decry the rumors.”

Elli shrugged a shoulder and flicked a clawed hand. “During the early years, there were rumors and speculations on the possibility of the Rabbit Clan surviving, but as the centuries passed with no definite sign, the Elders could only believe that they had been completely lost to the Dark General.”

“He tried,” Bunny finally said, his voice still rather hoarse from the shock of meeting not one but  _ four _ other Clans. At least that was Jack’s speculation as he casually watched Bunny nibble at his food as if he had no appetite at the moment. “He’s still trying but now the grudge is personal after the last couple of times he got himself shoved back into the darkness he crawled out of.” He huffed and shook his head, looking more like himself as his ears perked up. 

“Pitch certainly is stubborn,” agreed Jack with a bright grin. “Eventually, he’ll figure it out that he can’t fight us even with all his nightmares.”


	7. Visitors from the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SG1/Trinity Blood crossover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if I'm going to finish this or not. Been so long since I started it I can't remember what I was doing with it *laughs*. It jumps from scene to scene because that's how it was written.

Visitors from the Stars

By: Tazzy

Rating:

Disclaimer: I don’t own anyone, much to my chagrin. Of course, if I owned ‘em there would be certain things that never would have happened and probably a lot less angst.

Author’s Notes: Okay this is *my* take on the Trinity Blood world. I know the true story and what really happened, but I like my version better *grins*.

  
  


The streets of Rome were packed with people, all anxiously waiting. Christmas decorations were strewn everywhere as strands of lights added an almost fairy-tale twinkle to the excited atmosphere. People were jammed into windows and crowding rooftops for this momentous event.

Augusta Vradica, the Empress and Eternal Mother of the Methuselah Empire, was coming to the Vatican to present his Holiness, Pope Alessandro XVIII, with a gift before signing a peace accord between their respective countries.

Never before had anyone heard of the Empress leaving the Empire, and to come to the Vatican, with only a handful of guards and a few handpicked escorts, was a total surprise and a large amount of trust placed in the Vatican.

Resisting the urge to sigh, Father Abel Nightroad stood next to Cardinal Catarina Sforza, mentally cursing whatever twisted mind that designed the formal uniforms for the Department of Foreign Affairs. Armored shoulder pads emblazoned with a scarlet cross were fastened securely across his back where a large armored circle, also emblazoned with a scarlet cross, rested between his shoulders. Armored plates covered the cuffs of his tunic and boots, all inscribed with the scarlet cross, while around his neck was a long white scarf with the scarlet cross on the ends and on the back of his gloves. Even the simple crucifix he normally wore had been exchanged for a large gold crucifix that looked, in Abel’s opinion, like it was backed with a cross between a wheel and a windmill.

‘ At least I don’t have to wear this everyday,’ he mentally sighed, flexing his shoulders slightly as if he could relieve a bit of pressure that the armored plate was putting on his shoulder blades even as the leather straps for his gun holster were pressed more firmly into his back. Though his wings only manifested when he needed them, all that pressure on his back made him feel like his wings were being crushed in an uncomfortable way.

Suddenly, trumpets blared through the night air, and everyone in the courtyard turned to watch the party entering the Vatican, all fidgeting stopped at the sight of the Imperial Guards in their armor and carrying ornamental pikes that were as deadly as they were beautiful. After the four front guards was an open carriage being drawn by a white horse with two familiar faces and the elegantly clothed and veiled figure of the Empress. While Abel was surprised to see Astharoshe Asran, Duchess of Odessa, and Ion Fortuna, Count of Memphis, he was glad his sister had chosen escorts that were friendly with the Vatican as well as loyal to her.

‘ But then, Seth was a better negotiator than either Cain or myself,’ mused Abel, a small smile on his face as he watched the carriage stop before the Pope. The front guards split to form a corridor between the carriage and the teenage boy in the heavy robes of state as Astha and Ion descended to kneel on either side of the stairs. Gracefully, the Empress Augusta Vradica, known to Abel as Seth Nightlord, descended from the carriage and approached the young Pope only to stop a polite distance away with a respectful curtsey.

“ Your Holiness, Pope Alessandro XVIII, I thank you for your generous hospitality,” began the Empress, her deep voice ringing over the packed courtyard, and Abel was just able to make out the voice synthesizer under the heavy veil. “As a gift of good will and peace, I present to you an artifact discovered in Memphis.”

“ I thank you for the gift, Your Imperial Majesty, Empress Augusta Vradica, and humbly welcome you into my home,” replied Alessandro, his face perfectly serene as he extended the hand not gripping his staff as if it was a lifeline, and the Empress slid her small hand into his, curtseying again.

Astha and Ion joined the Empress with a data disk in their hands. “This is all the information my scientists have been able to uncover about the artifact, and I welcome your scientists and security personnel to examine it further,” the tiny ruler invited, her voice soft as the Nobles handed a disk to Catarina and to Cardinal Francesco di Medici . “I understand how a gift given in friendship could turn out to be a threat in disguise.”

Abel’s gaze flickered over to Francesco in time to see his mouth turn down into an even more severe frown at the reminder of Archbishop Alfonso d’Etste and his gifts that were meant to discredit Catarina before bringing Rome to its knees. It was a fair stab in Abel’s eyes, and he pushed his glasses farther up his nose to hide his smile.

“ Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty,” replied Alessandro, a faint blush on his cheeks. “We have quarters prepared for you and y our party to freshen up after your trip.”

“ Thank you, Your Holiness,” replied then Empress. “May I request Father Abel Nightroad to act as our guide? My companions have informed me of their impressions of him, and I would like to judge for myself if he is as magnificent as they describe.”

An embarrassed flush stole across Astha’s face while Ion refused to raise his eyes from the ground where they had fallen. Catarina’s gray eyes cut sideways to glance at the silver haired man, and Abel gave a small shrug indicating he had no idea what the Empress was talking about. From the brief roll of the pretty blonde’s eyes, she wasn’t buying his innocent act for a second, and he simply smiled at her, the innocent and simple smile that caused so many to trust him.

“ Father Nightroad would be delighted to act as your escort, Your Imperial Majesty,” Catarina announced with a respectful bow. There was a slight nod of the tiny ruler’s head before they turned to enter the Vatican while a large truck rumbled into the slowly emptying courtyard with a large cloth-covered object on the flat bed.

Automatically, Abel fell into step beside Astha, his shoulders twitching again as his movements caused the heavy fabric of his formal robe to bunch slightly and press against his shoulder blades with increasing discomfort. Perhaps after the Empress and her party were settled in their quarters, he could finally slip back to his room and change out of the heavy armor...

“ Once we reach our quarters, you have my permission to get comfortable, Father Nightroad.” The deep voice of the Empress broke through Abel’s thoughts, and he blinked down at the diminutive figure to find the veiled face turned slightly in his direction. “I know how uncomfortable Court dress can be.”

Abel nodded his head in a polite bow. “I thank you, Your Imperial Majesty,” he said, resisting the urge to quicken his step. Knowing Seth and her sense of humor, she would only slow down, forcing him to spend a longer time in the torture device some twisted soul called the formal uniform if he tried it. Ion and Astha exchanged curious glances but didn’t say anything about their Empress’s strange behavior towards Abel, knowing a few of their ruler’s secrets.

Finally, the party stopped at a pair of doors, and Catarina opened them before leading them into a large sitting room. “These have been made available to you for the duration of your stay, Your Imperial Majesty.”

There was a small antechamber that separated the doors from the rest of the apartment with a couple of chairs for guests to wait until the Empress was ready to receive them. Beyond was a large sitting room with couches and chairs scattered about and three doors leading off the main room. Abel knew two were bedrooms while the third was a lush bathroom, and he wondered briefly who was going to be sleeping with who with this little arrangement.

“ I apologize for providing you with only two bedrooms, but this was the largest apartment available that could be made secure enough for your visit,” Catarina remarked, moving over to the large curtains that fell the length of the room and pulled them back to reveal glass doors leading out into the garden. “The windows are resistant against any gun or bullet up to a missile and have been made sun proof so none of your entourage are trapped in any room during the day.”

“ You have outdone yourself, Cardinal Sforza,” remarked the Empress glancing around the room as Astha and Ion moved towards the closed doors to check those room. “We will be most comfortable here during our visit.”

Catarina bowed. “By your leave, Your Imperial Majesty?”she requested before Seth waved her off, and Catarina bowed again before leaving.

Abel sighed as the door closed behind her and started stripping the armor off, neatly piling it to be returned to his quarters later. “I thank you for allowing me the chance to get comfortable, Your Imperial Majesty,” he stated, his eyes flickering to the guards standing there. Two had remained in the antechamber while the other two were standing next to the doors leading to the garden.

Light laughter slipped out of Seth as she reached up to pull off her veil and voice synthesizer. “Relax, Abel, they’re like your Tres,” she announced, bouncing over to help him take the shoulder plates off. “Who designed this torture gear?”

“ I don’t know but oh, that feels good,” groaned the silver haired priest, arching his back as the shoulder pads and back armor fell to the ground with a clunk of metal. He continued stretching backward until his hands touched the floor behind him, and there was a loud *pop* from his spine that got a purr out of him. “Just what was needed.”

Astha gazed at him in surprise as he stood back up, settling his glasses on his nose again. “How long were you standing there, waiting for us?”

Abel blinked as he thought about it. “Just after sunset,” he stated after a moment. “Sister Kate informed us that you were making preparations, and we were turned out for a proper welcome.”

“ Is Sister Kate the captain of that huge ship that shadowed us from the harbor?” inquired Seth, flopping on one of the overstuffed chairs and hooking her legs over the arm.

Chuckling, Abel claimed a seat on the couch to face his sister. “That large ship is the Iron Maiden and yes, she is the captain of it. She was your armed escort through the city to dissuade any potential assassins, and Rome is so use to her flying over on various missions that no one thought anything of her following you.”

“ Sneaky, Abel. Very sneaky,” teased Seth, shaking a finger at him before letting her head drop back to stare at the room upside down. Her large green and white hat fell to the floor with a soft plop as she waved Astha and Ion towards the other seats. “Sit down you two. Relax. Consider this a vacation from the tedious life in Court. I know I’m going to enjoy myself as much as possible when we’re not stuck in boring meetings getting the peace accord hashed out.”

Abel raised a finger as he mimicked Seth’s position on the couch, his long silver hair trailing on the floor behind the couch. “Expect resistance from Francesco, and the Pope is, unfortunately, easily cowed by shouting, which Francesco does. A lot.”

“ Are you sure you should be telling us this, Father Nightroad?” asked Ion, his red eyes filled with concern, and Abel sat up to look at him, curiously.

“ You would have found out when you sat down at the negotiation table,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulder. “Catarina really wants this peace accord, but Francesco believes that the only good Methuselah is a dead Methuselah. He will also do his best to make you loose your tempers and show that you can’t be trusted to honor a peace accord.”

Seth raised her head to glance at Ion and Astha. “You both have grown from the impatient hot heads you once were, but don’t let any of his words get to you or talk back to him because he will use them against you as quickly as any Noble.”

They nodded their understanding before glancing at each other. “Um, how are the rooms going to be arranged?” inquired Ion, a faint blush on his cheeks. “And is Father Abel going to be staying with us or in his own quarters?”

Seth grinned as she looked at Abel. “Well, are you willing to stay with us while we’re here and act as our guide to the Vatican?”

He answered her grin with one of his own. “Are we bunking together or am I bunking with Ion?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Francesco stood at the table, his gray eyes flashing in anger as he glared at the Methuselah representatives. “You are cursed in the eyes of God and should be destroyed in His holy light!”

As if it was a signal, the curtains were yanked back from the windows, letting the sunlight pour into the room, and Astha and Ion shrieked in anger and fear as they dove under the table, desperate to get away from the deadly light. Abel’s chair fell backwards as he sprang to his feet and rushed over to Astha, desperately trying to cover her with his own slender form while Catarina did the same for Ion.

Only Seth remained in the full sunlight as she rose to her feet, her veiled face turning to stare at Francesco. “Your God has graciously allowed me to rule my children for over 900 years and lets me enjoy His light. I believe that is enough of a blessing that any ruler can ask for,” she remarked, dryly, before turning to stare at the servants next to the windows. “Now close those curtains before I rip your throats out.”

The curtains were yanked closed so fast, Abel was certain he heard fabric ripping, but his attention was on Astha who was trembling very faintly under him. “Are you all right?” he murmured, his eyes flickering over her in an attempt to verify her condition.

Her lips were pulled back from her fangs as her nails dug into her palm. “I am going to kill that bastard!” she hissed, her muscles tensing for an attack against Francesco only to look at Abel when he laid a calming hand on her shoulder.

“ He wants an excuse. Don’t give him one,” he murmured in her ear as he helped her to her feet while Catarina did the same with Ion.

“ Now that we have discovered who has the bigger balls, Cardinal di Medici, perhaps you would like to explain why you decided to nearly start a war between our nations,” purred Seth

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The giant circle was spinning again as soldiers filled the courtyard of the Vatican, surrounding the artifact and prepared to defend their world against whatever would come out of it. The black and white figures of the AX were intermingled with the red and silver armored warrior of the Inquisitorial Department. Guns were cocked and ready, held in white gloved hands as swords, maces and blades were shifted in metal-encased hands. Near the center of the front row, directly in front of the circle, Abel stood next to Astha, his gun in his hand as she fidgeted with her spear, the prongs open and ready for an attack or defense should it be required. It was rather ironic in Abel’s mind that normally the only thing that would bring out this many soldiers from the Vatican in one place was a vampiric invasion, yet this time, the Methuselah were on their side.

The low thrum of a ship’s engines filled the air as a shadow crept over the courtyard, and Abel’s blue eyes flickered up in time to see the Iron Maiden settle over the Vatican with its destructive guns swivelling to aim at the circle.

Just then, the circle stopped and a burst of blue light filled the center, looking like the surface of a sun-lit pond when someone dropped a large rock in before the light retracted to shimmer on the surface. Tension raced through the crowd as weapons that were held loosely or being fidgeted with were caught up in a sure, firm grip and the sounds of hundreds of guns being primed filled the air. Everyone waited and seconds later, the surface of the blue light shimmered and four figures emerged only to stop at the sight of all the weapons that had come up into a ready position the second they had appeared.

Slowly, so as not to cause any itchy trigger fingers to twitch, the gray haired man and blond woman placed their long rifles on the ground before straightening up and lacing their hands behind their head in a military gesture of surrender. The dark skinned man with the gold brand on his forehead placed his gold staff on the ground as well before assuming the same stance as the others while the bespeckled man sighed and raised his hands.

“ We mean you no harm. We come in peace,” the bespeckled man announced in Latin, his voice carrying over the courtyard but no one moved.

“ Somehow I don’t think they believed you, Daniel,” muttered the gray haired man in English, his words caught by Abel’s keen ears.

The blond woman swallowed. “Sir, not to be an alarmist but I thought I saw a red light like a targeting lazer come from that man’s eye,” she murmured, nodding ever so slightly to Tres, standing near Able, both guns held in the battle android’s steady hands.

Carefully, Abel took a few steps forward, lowering his gun as he cautiously approached them as one would a blood thirsty vampire. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” he demanded in English although his voice didn’t carry the strange accent of the new arrivals.

“ I’m Dr. Daniel Jackson, this is Colonel Jack O’Neil, Major Samantha Carter and Teal’c,” introduced the bespeckled man, his brown hair shifting slightly in the faint breeze. “We’re from Earth, Tauri, and are part of the United States Air Force.”

“ There hasn’t been a United States since it was destroyed during Armageddon,” remarked Brother Petros, approaching from Abel’s left side. “And we would have heard something from them by now if they have had a chance to rebuild enough to contact us again.”

Surprised looks were traded among the four before the black man raised a brow. “We have not traveled through time,” he remarked in a deep voice even as dark eyes swept over the courtyard before flicking up to the Iron Maiden. “But I believe this might be one of the Lost Worlds.”

O’Neil sighed and rolled his eyes. “This really isn’t the time to be dropping random bits of information like that, Teal’c,” he griped.

The blue portal behind them vanished with a soft whoosh and there was a bit more relaxation sweeping through the courtyard, but no one moved from their ready position. Abel gazed at the group, his eyes taking in various details about them. O’Neil had the look of a seasoned veteran but there was a shadow in his eyes of some pain that still lingered. Jackson had the same pain in his eyes but there was a fierce determination, as if he could find whatever he had lost. Carter shifted nervously from foot to foot, her eyes constantly dancing between Abel and O’Neil as if waiting for her commanding officer to give the command.

But there was something about Teal’c that raised the hairs on the back of Abel’s neck, something that made the Crusnik in him want to tear limb from limb and drink deeply of the blood that flowed under vulnerable skin before snapping the delicate neck. Never before had anyone, vampire, human or Crusnik, made him feel like this and it was a bit off-setting.

A soft crackle of static in his ear was his only warning as Abel’s communicator sprung to life. “Relieve them of their weapons and bring them into the Main Audience Chamber,” commanded Catarina’s voice. “His Holiness wishes to speak to them himself.”

“ As you wish, Your Eminence,” he replied with a small dip of his head out of habit before Abel holstered his gun. “Sister Esther, Father Wordsworth, and Father de Watteau, they are to be relieved of their weapons before being escorted into the Main Audience Chamber.”

Sister Esther instantly moved towards Carter while the Professor and Hughes started towards O’Neil and Teal’c while Abel approached Jackson. The bespeckled man seemed nervous but not as jittery as O’Neil as the Professor stripped him of all possible weapons. Abel’s hands were sure and steady as he fell into the old routine of searching a person, slender fingers ghosting over pockets zipped shut but only opening those that had a weapon concealed inside and carefully piling them next to Jackson’s feet. Hughes was just as efficient, his long blond hair falling forward to hide his face as he worked, and the Professor was moving a bit slower but with the same efficiency. Only Sister Esther seemed to be hesitating over some of the items, but a few glances at what was being piled at the feet of each person had her gathering her courage and continuing on.

Finally, Abel stood up and gestured for the quartet to follow him before he turned to Brother Petros. “Brother Petros, would you and Sister Paula be kind enough to escort us?” he invited, knowing that would be the easy way to keep any arguments or disagreements between the two departments to a minimum.

With a nod, Petros glanced over to silently summon the Lady of Death, and she walked over with her curved double blades in her hands, the light glinting off the lethal edges and the metallic fabric of her outfit. Thigh high spiked heel boots, long gloves that ended in shoulder pads, and an outfit that looked like a corset with underwear attached all made out of the same metallic fabric that looked like plate mail but was flexible and light enough for anyone to wear. Her short silver hair fell over her right eye and a black belt was slung low on her hips, accenting their sway, and Abel heard a quiet hiss behind him from O’Neil.

“ *That’s* a nun?” he whispered in disbelief only to be silenced by Jackson’s hissed “Jack!”

Together, the strange group of visitors, AX agents and Inquisitorial agents started through the crowd that parted before them like the Red Sea, and the quiet thrum of the Iron Maiden’s engines picked up in volume as the huge battle cruiser slowly made its way away from the Vatican. As they passed through the halls, Abel only glanced at the armored forms stationed at every doorway and arch, ready in case their guests had some other tricks up their sleeves.

“ Jack, that armor isn’t entirely ceremonial,” Jackson whispered as they walked, and Abel quietly listened without letting the men behind him know he was listening. “And these people were very prepared to take on any threat that came through that ‘Gate.”

“ So this may be the Vatican, but they don’t play by the same rules our Vatican does,” mused Carter, and Abel glanced at her reflection as they passed a mirror to see a thoughtful look on her face, her blue eyes glancing around as they tried to figure out this apparent puzzle.

After a few minutes, they entered the Main Audience Chamber where the Pope sat with his staff in his hand in all his finery while Catarina and Francesco sat in their lesser chairs. Next to Alessandro’s seat, someone had brought in an ornate chair, and the Empress of the Methuselah Empire sat there, her face concealed behind her veil again.

Smoothly, Abel knelt in front of the chairs, his head bowed. “Your Holiness, may I present Dr. Daniel Jackson, Colonel Jack O’Neil, Major Samantha Carter and Teal’c of the United States Air Force from the planet Tauri.”

The young teenager looked at the strangers, curiosity in his gray eyes. “What has brought you to us and why?” he asked in his soft voice, but this time there was an iron core to his words. “And what are your intentions while here?”

There was a throat cleared behind him, and Abel looked up to find Jackson kneeling next to him. “Your Holiness, we are scouts in a way,” he began, looking up at the assembled people. “On our planet, we unburied the Stargate and figured out how it worked. Only when we opened the ‘Gate and traveled to our first planet, we found an ancient and powerful enemy there. The Gou’ald.”

“ Who are these Gou’ald and why would they be an enemy?’ inquired Catarina, raising a slender blond eyebrow.

“ They are a symbiotic race who take human hosts by force and have various galaxies under their control,” continued Jackson, the old pain surfacing briefly in his eyes before it was buried again. “As far as they are concerned, we are nothing better than slaves to them, and they are gods to rule over us.”

Francesco surged to his feet. “And you dare bring this menace here?” he thundered.

Instantly O’Neil was between Jackson and the furious cardinal. “Look buddy boy, with your ‘Gate open, it’s only a matter of time before Apophis or one of the others is knocking at your door, ready to enslave all of you and make you hosts or worse,” growled O’Neil. “We came here to look for potential allies and willing to offer our services in exchange, but if you want to stay on your high horse, I’ll gladly take my friends and go, leaving you to the mercy of the next System Lord who decides this planet is ripe for the picking.”

“ You dare threaten me?” snarled Francesco, and Abel scrambled to his feet, ready to get between the two men or at least drag Jackson out of the way if things turned violent.

“ Cardinal di Medici!” The voice cracked out like a whip and everyone’s attention turned to the young Pope who had risen to his feet, his face pale but determined. “Sit down. We will hear them out without threats from either side or you will be dismissed.”

Everyone who knew the normally timid and shy teenager was surprised at this turn of events and even a few had small smiles on their faces at the first indication that Alessandro was growing up. A shocked look flickered across Francesco’s face before he sat back down with a “Of course, Your Holiness” despite the obvious bitter taste it left in his mouth.

Abel could almost feel the smug smile he knew Seth was probably wearing behind her veil and hoped this pet project of her turned out a bit better than the last one. But then, how was she suppose to know that particular Sargent had a bad past that bordered on psychotic?

The Pope turned his gaze back to Abel and Jackson, and Able could see the fine tremor in the young teenager’s hands. “You say you are scouts, but what do you wish from us?”

Jackson pushed his glasses up his nose as he looked at Alessandro. “We seek allies against the Gou’ald and a way to remove their threat, but we also offer our assistance in battling their threat,” he continued as if the confrontation between O’Neil and Francesco hadn’t happened.

“ I believe we need to discuss this further and in more depth,” decided Alessandro, glancing at the veiled Seth. “Your Imperial Majesty, would you and your advisors join us in the conference room? Cardinal Sforza, Cardinal di Medici, please join us with one of your advisors.”

Abel glanced up at Catarina who nodded slightly, and he rose to his feet with the rest of the group. Normally, it would be either the Professor or Father Vaclave that accompanied Catarina since his position as her unofficial second-in-command had never really come out, but he would be able to spot any treachery on behalf of these scouts and act accordingly.

“ Sister Paula, return to the courtyard and take control of our troops stationed there,” instructed Brother Petros before he fell into place at Francesco’s back. The Professor caught Abel’s eye and nodded his head towards the door leading out. A quick nod of Abel’s head had the Albion priest strolling after the Lady of Death as Astha and Ion escorted the Empress after the Pope.

In the conference room, there was a quick bustling before Alessandro sat at the head of the table with Seth at the other end. On Alessandro’s right sat Catarina, Abel, Jackson, Carter, and Astha while across from them was Francesco, Petros, Teal’c, O’Neil and Ion. Abel held Catarina’s chair for her as the others sat down before claiming his own seat as the servants placed large pitchers of water on the table along with glasses, each of the Methuselah representatives getting two in case they grew hungry later.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The workout room had a few people scattered about, using exercise equipment while a large section of the floor off to one side was covered in tumbling mats with weapon racks along the wall. The racks were mostly filled with wooden staves but one or two held bokken and billy clubs for variety. Abel glanced around as Teal’c went right to the weapons’ racks and scooped up a staff before moving to the center of the mats.

“ I am curious to know more of your skills in fighting,” remarked Teal’c, and Leon chuckled as he moved to grab a couple of billy clubs before facing Teal’c on the mats. “I assure you that I will not hold back.”

“ Bring it,” drawled Leon, his dark hair falling around his shoulders in waves. “We’re trained to go hand to hand against Methuselah in a fight.”

The second the words were out of his mouth, Teal’c leaped into action, swinging his staff which met with one of Leon’s clubs with a solid thwack. Leon grunted but held the blow before attacking in a whirl of black fabric and wood.

The sound of wood striking wood echoed through the room, punctured by the occasional grunt or swear word, mostly from Leon, for several minutes before Leon’s feet were knocked out from under him, and he crashed to the ground, his clubs clattering to the floor as the tip of Teal’c’s staff rested against his throat.

“ I believe I win this match,”remarked Teal’c, reaching down to assist a sweating and panting Leon to his feet. Brushing dust off his rumpled clothes, Leon glared at Teal’c through strands of curling black hair that stuck to his tanned skin.

“ At least you could look like I gave you *something* of a work out,” he grumbled before moving over to where Abel was standing next to Catarina, Hughes, and William, and slapping Abel on the shoulder. “Your turn, Father Four-Eyes.”

“ If you insist,” sighed Abel, removing his cape and picking up a staff from the rack of weapons. “Although I don’t see why we should be doing this.”

“ Think of this as a demonstration of your skills,” offered Leon with a grin as Abel squared off with the Jaffa. A quick glance at Catarina showed an amused smile on her face as she stood next to Daniel, and Abel nodded slightly at her just as Teal’c suddenly attacked.

The blow missed as Abel ducked and spun out of the way, his staff coming up to meet the next blow and caught it with a solid clack of wood striking. The silver haired priest stood there, unaffected by the blow which had managed to at least bend his companion’s arms when they had met it previously, and a look of surprise flashed through those dark eyes before Teal’c nodded once and started attacking again, his movements coming faster.

While the speed may have been a furious pace for a normal human, Abel found that the large man’s speed was a touch slower than a vampires, and he had no trouble keeping up.

*Now let’s play a game called endurance,* Abel decided, falling into the familiar rhythm of block and retreat and he began analyzing the Jaffa’s fighting style. As the seconds stretched into minutes, the silver haired man was dimly aware of more spectators joining to watch the sparring match, but his attention never wavered from his opponent who was starting to sweat form the effort he was putting into the fight.

Then everything changed. Something infinitesimal shifted in Abel’s favor, and he instantly switched from pure defense to pure offense. It was no longer a staff he held but the blood red scythe that was a natural extension of his own body, forcing his prey to retreat now as Abel pressed his advantage. The two danced around the mat, roles of predator and prey firmly established where once it had been fluid and changing, and dimly, Abel was aware of the soft whispers that came from the growing audience as he chased the now sweating Jaffa around the floor.

“ Abel! Stop playing with your toy and finish it!” Catarina’s voice cut through the intensity that had surrounded him, and he acknowledged her words with a slight dip of his head.

Spinning, Abel sent Teal’c’s staff flying through the air before sweeping the Jaffa’s feet out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. The silver haired man swung his staff at the unprotected waist, seeing his blade slice his prey in half before he reversed his swing with the other end, the barbed lash wrapping around the vulnerable neck in his mind’s eye.

“ You’re dead,” Abel stated, frozen with his staff resting against the dark neck.

There was a few seconds of stunned silence before cheers and groans filled the air, snapping Abel out of his focus. He looked around to find his friends cheering while more than one airman was wearing a look of disappointment and money changed hands. Most of it going into Leon’s hands.

Slowly, Abel backed away from Teal’c, every nerve in his body screaming to finish his prey as they lay helpless before him, and he deliberately turned to walk towards the weapon racks. He turned around and froze at the sight of Hammond, Jack and Astha standing near Catarina. Astha had a stunned expression on her face while a calculating look was on Jack’s.

“ You never said you could fight like that,” remarked Astha, her golden eyes staring at Abel who blushed and shrugged.

“ It never seemed important,” he apologized as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

  
  
  
  
  


Glancing around, Daniel slipped down another corridor not seeing any sign of Anise and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t run into the Tok’ra. While he has nothing against the Tok’ra in general, Anise was someone he just didn’t feel up to talking to her or even looking at her at the moment, but it seemed she was determined to stalk him all over the base for whatever reason.

He turned another corner and sighed when he realized that he was in one of the few dead ends found in the base. Turning, he was about to return to his office when he froze at the sight of Anise standing there a slight smirk on her lips.

“ Anise,” Daniel greeted with a slight dip of his head. “If you will excuse me, I have work to do.” He approached her with the intention of moving past her and continuing to his office where he could put a solid door between him and her but she moved to block his path. He moved to get around her and she matched him, move for move, until it looked like they were dancing in the hallway.

Closing his eyes and tipping his head back, Daniel ran through all the swear words he knew in all the languages he knew. Twice. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Anise. “I have work to do, so please let me get by.”

“ You’ve been avoiding me,” she admonished, her voice that of the Tok’ra, as she waggled a finger at him. “What I want to know is why.”

“ Because I have work to do,” he repeated for the third time but she slowly shook her head, her eyes never leaving his as she started forward. For each step she took forward, he took back until he bumped into the wall behind him and then she took two more steps, invading his personal space quite blatantly.

She opened her mouth to say something when the faint sound of rustling feathers caused her to step back and whirl around, ready to snarl at whomever was there, and Daniel used the distraction to slide away before he got a look at who, or rather what, was standing at the entrance of the dead end.

Almost seven feet tall with silver hair rising above his head like a crown or halo, a man stood there clad in the same black robes that Cardinal Sforza’s priests wore but he didn’t look like any of those that had accompanied the blonde woman on her visit to SGC. Pale skin that bordered on ghost white with black lips in a face that could only be described as unearthly beautiful, even with the burning red eyes that were fixed on Anise, and large black feathered wings flexed slightly on the man’s back.

The black lips pulled back to reveal impressive fangs. “Threat,” growled a deep, husky voice that sent shivers down Daniel’s spine, and the wings flexed again, spreading slightly. “Threat die.”

Swallowing hard, Daniel slowly moved a bit farther away from Anise and prayed that he wasn’t the target of this unearthly creature. As he moved, that burning gaze stayed fixed on Anise who was starting to tremble slightly even as her hand dipped towards her *very* short skirt before she raised it, firing a blast from her ribbon device at the same time.

With surprising speed, the creature swayed to one side, the blast completely missing him but it was enough of an opening for Anise to dash through it with all the speed of a Tok’ra. There was a cold hiss that reminded Daniel of a snake before the creature dashed after her, and cursing, Daniel was forced to sprint after them, if only to keep the Tok’ra/Tauri alliance together.

Startled cries and curses were tossed up in the wake of the winged creature and Anise during the wild flight through the halls, and Daniel was panting by the time he burst into the Gateroom, seconds behind them. Behind him was Sam, Teal’c, Jack, Janet, and Catarina with General Hammond close behind them, and he watched as the creature stalked Anise towards the Gate, a smile on his black lips as she stumbled and fell.

The creature held out his right hand and liquid gushed from his hand to form a wicked looking blood red scythe with a tail on the other end. The blade had almost a spiky, crooked looking shaft before the blade emerged in a deadly arc while the crest sweeping back the other way added to the lethal beauty of the crimson weapon. The tail had rows of barbs down two sides, giving it a distinctly spine-like look, and the creature raised the scythe slightly.

“ Threat die,” he growled again.

“ United Nations Aeorspace Force Commander Abel Nightroad, stand down!” Time seemed to pause on a heartbeat as that deadly scythe hovered in the air, threatening to slice through Anise who was trapped against the ramp up to the Gate as Catarina’s voice lashed out, firm and commanding in Italian. Daniel blinked at looked at the creature as he slowly turned to glance back at the blonde making her way across the room, confidence in each step that carried her closer to the winged man. Now that he was looking for it, Daniel could see some traces of the gentle and almost bumbling priest in the pale face, but the demonic black wings and red eyes didn’t fit in with the Father Abel Nightroad he had gotten to know.

Catarina stepped into the range of that deadly scythe and reached up to place her hands on that beautiful face, turning it until she could meet that ruby gaze. “Abel, Crusnik 02, it is safe now. There is no longer a threat. Come back to me.”

Daniel watched in disbelief as the blood red eyes blinked before something sparked in them. “Catarina?” Abel asked in that deep, husky voice, his words coming out in English before he glanced around, finally realizing where he was before his gaze flickered down to the scythe in his hand and he looked at her confused. “What happened?”

“ We were hoping you could tell us that,” thundered Hammond, stalking up to them as Jack and Daniel hurried with him. “As well as who you are and how the hell you got into my base!”

“ Sir, I’m not sure what happened, but I can tell you that Anise fired on him with a ribbon device,” Daniel blurted out, hoping to stop any potential disasters before they started. Disasters, at least, with the pretty cardinal and her people.

“ He was threatening me!” snarled Anise, rising to shaking legs and she tried to regain what dignity she lost during her mad flight by smoothing down her short skirt, the glint of the ribbon device marring the effect where it was wrapped around one hand. “Or do you not care when one of your allies is threatened by a hostile creature?”

Her demanding tone caused Daniel’s hackle to rise and he glared at her, words he had kept inside and ignored rising to his lips before he could stop them. “It seems like we’re your allies only when it is beneficial to you. After all, we’re an ‘infantile race’ so how could we possibly do anything like stop a possible threat to you or even offer a threat to you?”

A heavy hand rested on the back of Daniel’s neck, more for comfort than reining in his temper. “Easy, Daniel,” soothed Jack, a calming presence to his frazzled nerves. “Not her fault she’s older than the hills and forgot how the young kids play.”

“ Colonel,” growled Hammond, his tone clearly saying ‘Shut up before you’re on KP duty’. “Anise, I believe it’s best that you return to your quarters for now.”

“ The High Council will hear of this,” she promised, stalking out of the room, her head held high and there was a faint growl coming from Abel that Daniel felt like echoing. He had the feeling that if Catarina had not been standing there as an anchoring presence, Abel would have attacked the Tok’ra again and none of them would have been able to stop him had they wanted to.

Sighing, Daniel rubbed his temples as the headache that had been threatening to descend finally emerged with a vengeance, making him wish for nothing more than a couple of aspirin, some water and a soft cot in a dark room somewhere but from the dark look that Hammond was giving both Abel and Catarina, it was going to be at least a couple of hours before he got any of those.

@@@

The warmth emanating from Catarina helped ground Abel in reality as her scent swirled around his head, calming the killing fury that had enveloped him. He wasn’t quite sure what happened or even what he had been doing because the last thing he remembered was lying down for a nap, feeling unusually tired but attributing it to traveling by that Stargate. The next thing he knew, he was standing there in his Crusnik form with his scythe about to come down on a blonde woman who was setting off every killing instinct he had.

“ Now, who the hell are you and how the hell did you get on my base without anyone raising an alarm?” demanded Hammond, glaring at both of them before pointing a finger at Catarina. “And if you let him in here, you’ll find yourself on shaky ground for negotiations.”

Catarina turned and calmly met Hammond’s blazing gaze as Abel reabsorbed the scythe, knowing he wasn’t going to need it and if he kept it out, there would only be more questions.

“ I believe this is something to discuss in a more private setting, General Hammond,” remarked Catarina, her voice calm and cool as she had weathered worst in the face of Francesco’s temper.

Spinning on a heel, Hammond motioned for them to follow him with a snap of his hand, and Abel leaned down to whisper into Catarina’s ear. “I shall follow your lead, my lady.”

“ Let’s see how many answers they want before we reveal everything,” she murmured, a shiver running down her spine as Abel’s breath ghosted across her ear. “And you are a horrible tease.”

His soft chuckle slipped between them as he straightened and followed her through the halls. Despite his light behavior, Abel was concerned about the gap in his memory. Surely he would have remembered something like this before, but he’d never woken up ready to kill someone. But then, he’d never met anyone like that blonde, Anise, before, not even on the station....

Suddenly, he froze as a memory swept over him. The space station. Whenever the station had been in direct sunlight, all of the Crusniks had wandered around and interacted to a limited extent, all while fast asleep on their feet. The scientists who had studied the phenomenon when a few of the brass had raised concerns about it had labeled it a behavior instinct since if there was that much sunlight out, the vampiric prey would be holed up somewhere, making it easier for the Crusnik to catch them. This Earth must have more sunlight slipping through the ozone layer, unlike their Earth and thus sparking off the hunting behavior when added to the threat that Anise and Teal’c presented.

A hand on his arm snapped Abel out of his thoughts and he glanced down to find Catarina looking at him with concern in her gray eyes even as her face remained calm and unreadable. He smiled and shook his head, indicating that it was nothing to ask about, and she barely nodded before they entered the main conference room. Gracefully, Catarina sat in the chair at the opposite end of the table from Hammond while the rest of SG1 claimed the available chairs. Abel ignored the one remaining chair next to Daniel to stand at Catarina’s shoulder.

“ Now I want some answers, damn it, before I throw you and your people off this planet and let you fend for yourselves,” growled Hammond, his blue eyes flashing dangerously as he glared at them.

A slender hand gestured slightly towards Abel. “He is the Crusnik, the greatest weapon the Vatican has against the vampires,” she stated, her tone cool and impersonal. “Only a few have ever seen him or even know about him, and most vampires don’t live to tell the tale.”

“ Why not?” inquired Jack with a shrug. “I’d figure with someone like him at your side, you’d want to send him out until the vampires are all gone.”

“ Genocide is not what I want, Colonel O’Neil,” Catarina continued. “Besides, if the Crusnik goes on a killing spree someone eventually will figure out his nature and how to stop him, fatally. I do not know how you treat your friends, but I don’t send mine out to get killed because of petty ideas.” She snorted. “If you want the genocide of vampires, you’re better off talking to Francesco.”

“ How did this Crusnik get on my base without raising any alarms?” Hammond demanded, his posture relaxing slightly at her answer. “He’s wearing the uniform of one of your priests, but he doesn’t look like any that came with you.”

“ Appearances can be deceiving, General,” remarked Abel, his voice deep and husky even as he flexed his wings. A sharp pain lanced through his stomach, and Abel doubled over with a soft growl at the strong blood hunger pains, wrapping his arms around his waist. Quickly, he mentally activated more the nanites, suppressing the Crusnik virus as his wings were reabsorbed into his body, and he sighed in relief as the blood hunger pains lessened in intensity.

“ Abel?” whispered Catarina, her hand on his arm as Janet hurried over to them.

He smiled at her, his fangs flashing from between black lips. “I’m fine, just hungry,” he explained before shying away from Janet’s outstretched hand and straightening up.

“ What happened? Are you hurt?” asked Janet, running a professional eye over Abel even though she couldn’t see anything beyond the black priest’s robes. She reached out for him again, but Abel brushed her hands aside.

“ It’s nothing you can solve, and I’m fine,” he replied, his tone going a touch cold. Frankly, he didn’t feel like being the guest of a military doctor again, not after almost a millennium of not having to deal with them or their tests and needles.

Janet stepped back, her hands withdrawing with a slightly hurt look on her face before a professional mask appeared and she returned to her seat, the look in her eyes promising retribution in the form of needles. Abel shook his head. Doctors were bigger vampires than the ones he fought and fed off of.

“ So are you going to tell us which of her party you are before I have my guards do a head count and figure it out that way?” inquired Hammond, drawing Abel’s attention back to the earlier question.

Abel blinked, ruby eyes as innocent as they possibly could be. “Does it matter? I am no danger to you or your military unless you decide to attack us for no reason,” he replied.

“ Like Anise,” interjected Daniel, speaking up for the first time. “Back when you first confronted her, you didn’t attack first. You just called her a threat and said she had to die, but *she* fired at you, attacking first.”

A nod of the silver head was the acknowledgment of Daniel’s statement. “My instincts plainly stated she was a threat and had to die,” Abel simply stated before gesturing to Teal’c. “And to a lesser extent, him. No vampire has ever made me want to rip them apart, limb from limb, and tear their throat out with my fangs like the blonde and Teal’c do.”

“ Yet you’re controlling yourself now,” noted Jack. “Why is that?”

“ If you must know, I was asleep earlier,” sighed Abel, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “It happened before on the space station whenever it was in direct sunlight. Your planet must get more sunlight than ours.”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “Space station?”

Catarina sighed softly, almost wistfully. “Since the War between humans and vampires, we have lost much technology and among that was access to the space stations that supposedly acted as way-stations between Earth, Mars, and the Moon.” Her eyes were a bit distant. “We have not touched the stars in almost a millennium.”

“ But then how did you get from the space stations to Earth and back again?” Sam’s face wore a look of confusion as she stared at Abel as if by looking at him would supply the answer.

“ I returned to Earth in an escape craft with a lifepod and the last of the stations was sealed behind me by the fourth Crusnik before she followed me to Earth.” Abel couldn’t help but smirk at their stunned expressions to that bit of news.

“ There’s more like you?” asked Daniel, his voice stunned as he stared at Abel with wide eyes.

“ There were four,” replied the silver haired Crusnik, swallowing past the lump in his throat that appeared whenever he thought about Lilith and Cain’s betrayal. “The First was a volunteer that was able to withstand the transformation to Crusnik and she was a mother, sister, and mentor for us. I was the second and was created to be part of the breeding pair. The Third decided that we should rule both the humans and the vampires and turned against the First, injuring her enough to put her into a coma she has yet to recover from. The Fourth was the last and has her own agenda that doesn’t include trying to spark off another war.”

“ But why only four?” asked Sam, another frown of confusion on her face. “I mean, if this was during a war, why weren’t more Crusniks created?”

Abel closed his eyes, wishing he had never found the answer to that question himself in the medical files kept by the various doctors and scientists. “Not everyone can adapt to the Crusnik virus,” he said. “Most went mad or were eaten from the inside out. Even with the nanites controlling the virus, only she survived.”

“ Father Abel Nightroad,” breathed Janet, and Abel’s eyes flew open to stare at her. “That’s what was off about the MRI. It was nanotechnology in your bloodstream.”

Now everyone was looking at him with gazes ranging from disbelief to respect and even a bit of suspicion, but when he glanced at Catarina, he found only the calm acceptance he was always given from her. With a small nod, he transformed back into the familiar form of Father Abel Nightroad only to wince again at the blood hunger pangs.

“ Why were we not informed of not only your full abilities but that you are the carrier of a potentially dangerous virus?” Hammond was growling again as Abel finally slid into the seat next to Daniel, not wanting to stand up and take the chance of collapsing from hunger. It wasn’t that bad yet, but with the proof of the more sunlight setting the Crusnik virus off meant that the nanites were working harder to suppress it thus drawing their energy from his.

Abel folded his hands in his lap and looked at the archaeologist. “Dr. Jackson, in Western mythology, how are vampires made?”

“ The most common version is that the vampire drinks the blood of their victim before feeding their victim some of their own blood,” stated Daniel, a confused note in his voice as if not sure what Abel was getting at.

“ And that is the only one of two ways either the Crusnik or the Methuselah virus is passed,” agreed the priest, spreading his hands in a ‘so there’ gesture. “The other way is from parent to child.” He glanced around the table. “So unless anyone decides to use me as part of a blood transfusion, none of you will be in any danger because the virus is entirely a blood-born pathogen. “

“ What exactly are you? I mean, Cardinal Sforza described you as a weapon against vampires and you’re the carrier of a virus that changes you, but what are you?” asked Daniel, his blue eyes curious behind his glasses as he turned to look at Abel slightly.

“ Humans feast of the flesh of birds and cows,” began Abel, his soft words carrying through the room almost sounding like a mantra. “While vampires drink the blood of humans, so would it not stand to reason that there was something that survived on the blood of vampires?”

Now the looks were more stunned and full of disbelief as everyone except Catarina stared at him. His gaze slowly swept around the room to settle on Janet’s stunned face. “That is why you could not help me, because I wasn’t injured, but hungry and unless you happen to have a couple of Methuselah lying around, there’s nothing you can do to help me.” He held up a hand to forestall the argument he could see starting behind her eyes. “Astha is unaware of my full nature and I will not ask it of her unless it becomes desperate, but I have at least a decade before I become that ravenous as long as I remain uninjured.”

  
  
  
  
  


Slowly, Daniel wandered through the garden, enjoying the peaceful setting and the sounds of birds singing mixed with the gentle murmur of distant voices. The sun was shining down and the scent of roses hung in the air, a delicate perfume instead of an overpowering scent, and Daniel paused, taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes. It was so easy to get wrapped up in the fight with the Gou’ald and trying to keep the Tok’ra from giving them almost suicide-like missions that something a simple as relaxing in a garden seemed like a luxury.

When he opened his eyes, Daniel caught a glimpse of long silver hair and a black robe turning a corner of the maze-like hedge and found his curiosity stirring. When he had asked Cardinal Sforza about Abel earlier, she had replied that he was off on a personal errand, so what was the silver-haired priest doing on the Vatican grounds?

With skill developed from off-world missions, Daniel followed Abel through the row of hedges and down into a crypt, stumbling slightly when the shadows stretched between the faint lights that held the worst of the darkness back. The steady sound of footfalls ahead of him kept Daniel descending into the stone mausoleum, and he froze just inside the arched doorway, a half step away from the light that illuminated the room before him, to stare at the scene before him.

A large silver pod with a red cross emblazoned on the nose rested on a raised platform in the middle of the room, and Abel bent over the pod, his silver hair reflected in the glass. He seemed to be doing something on what looked like a control panel, but from this distance and with the light behind Abel, Daniel was unable to see clearly.

“ You can come out now,” Abel called, not looking up and Daniel slowly emerged from the shadows to stand next to Abel who was typing something on a keyboard. The symbols were unlike anything he had seen before so Daniel looked through the glass at the woman encased there. Her long crimson hair was pulled up into a tail held there with a golden comb and hairsticks while her lovely face was relaxed in sleep.

“ She’s the first Crusnik isn’t she?” Daniel asked, the words slipping out of him as he looked up at Abel to find amused blue eyes regarding him. “The one that was betrayed and is in a coma.”

The silver haired man inclined his head at Daniel. “Very astute of you,” he remarked, a small smile on his lips. “Her name is Lillith Sahl, and she actually is getting better.”

Daniel shook his head. “I can’t imagine the injuries that she sustained to put her in a coma that has lasted this long.”

“ Cain was pushed out of an airlock and fell to Earth, but there have been enough clues tossed in my path to indicate that he somehow survived,” Abel casually remarked, pressing a few more keys before closing the panel. “And I had my left arm and wing blown off by a tank shell once.”

Daniel’s head whipped around so fast, he stumbled into the pod as he lost his balance even as he stared at Abel in disbelief. “How is that possible?”

“ That is the power of the Crusnik,” remarked a young voice from the stairs, and Daniel turned to find a young girl standing there in a red skirt and a simple shirt with a matching vest over it. Her short black hair framed a heart-shaped face and large green eyes, and she casually strolled over to the pod, flipping the panel up to glance at the readings. “Glad to see she’s getting better, but she still has a long way to go, Abel.”

Abel nodded. “I’m not expecting any miracles yet,” he stated before smiling. “That’s for next week.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Your crazy cardinal, the Pope, and my wild Methuselah all in the same room together,” she remarked, dryly before glancing at Daniel. “Toss your colonel into the mix, and we have a fun week ahead of us.”

“ I’ll make sure to have plenty of alcohol on hand for us all,” drawled Abel, pulling his glasses off to rub the bridge of his nose. “I know Catarina wouldn’t mind coming to a party like that unless Francesco decides to jump her again in a political way.”

“ I’m telling you, from a medical standpoint, that bluster and control means he wants someone to tie him down and fuck the stick out of his ass,” remarked the girl, making Daniel cough at her blunt words. She didn’t look more than 13!

The silver haired priest grinned. “I suggested that to her once, over tea, and now she’s down a cup and has a stain on her carpet where she dropped it from laughing so hard.”

Quiet laughter echoed through the crypt for a few seconds before it died down to amused chuckles, and the girl turned to Daniel, holding out her hand. “We haven’t been introduced. I’m Seth Nightlord.”

“ Dr. Daniel Jackson,” replied the bespeckled man, shaking her hand as he looked at her curiously. How did she know Abel and Lilith and how was she able to read the panel? As he stared at her, he realized that she had the same pale skin that Abel had and it was also a few degrees cooler than a normal human’s temperature. “You’re the fourth Crusnik, the one not interested in starting a war between the humans and vampires.”

Seth giggles and punched Abel’s arm lightly. “These Tau’ri are going to be fun at the negotiation table,” she teased. “You find all the fun toys.”

Abel smiled before it slipped from his face. “He’s still out there,” he stated, his voice flat and Seth hissed through her teeth. “And he’s somehow connected with the Rosen Creuz Order.”

“ Are you sure? I mean, even with the virus and the nanites...” began Seth, a worried look on her face as Abel started ticking off the points.

“ He sent a lieutenant to hijack the Star of Sorrow with the so-called self-destruct code ‘Igne natura renova tur integra’. Two other lackeys, Isaak Fernando von Kämpfer and Radu Barvon, knew details about my Crusnik form, details that could only have come from another Crusnik. And I know of two incidences where only someone with at least our knowledge of computers and computer programming hijacked a blimp to crash into the Vatican, and then later, the air ships and Goliath tanks of the Inquisitorial Department before turning them against Carthago.”

“ Great,” she muttered. “Not only do I have to worry about the negotiations and trying not to rip out the throat of that black man, but the Insane Brother is back to create havoc in the world.” Seth shook her head and waved them towards the stairs. “Go. Shoo. I’ll check on her and then wander back to my Methuselahs. You two go play in the sun.” She smirked. “Or even with your pretty Duchess.”

  
  
  
  
  


Seth gasped as the blond woman brought up her hand, golden metal wrapped around her fingers glowing before Abel was between them just as a bright gold flash, and Abel was thrown over her head against the wall where he crumpled to the floor, his black robe smoking slightly. Instantly, she was at her brother’s side, gently easing him onto his back as her medical training kicked in, and she ripped open the black cloth to get a better look at the singed skin. The cloth was damp under her hands, and she could smell the blood that oozed from the serious wound. Why hadn’t his nanomachines deactivated to let the Crusnik virus activate enough to save Abel’s life?

Shaking her head, she reached up and pulled the voice synthesizer off with her veil before wadding part of her brother’s clothes against the injury. “Crusnik 02, nanomachines activate 80%, Medical Emergency authorization Major Seth Nightlord, United Nations Aerospace Medical ID UNASF369TLAS8804SK.”

There were gasps around her as the nanomachines obeyed her command, and Abel shifted into his Crusnik form, arching off the marble floor as his black wings unfurled from his back. Seth looked up to find everyone but Catarina and the SG1 team staring at her and Abel in either amazement or revulsion. Teal’c was busy restraining the blonde who had fired on her and the Pope while Jack and Sam had their guns out and pointed at her.

“ The Black Angel,” whispered Astha in awe, and Seth eyed her before a soft whimper from Abel distracted her. Dark lashes fluttered and opened to reveal burning red eyes filled with confusion as Abel gazed up at her. He opened his mouth to say something only to hiss in pain, a clawed hand coming down to clutch at his stomach where Seth was still applying pressure to the wound.

“ Easy Abel,” soothed Seth before looking up at Astha and Ion. “He needs fresh blood to heal. Methuselah blood.” There were a few startled curses from the humans as Astha and Ion exchanged glances, before Astha nodded and knelt next to Abel, holding her bare wrist out. Instead of drinking like Seth expected, a pained expression crossed Abel’s face, and he closed his eyes as he turned his head away.

“ I don’t want to hurt you.” The confession was whispered, carrying no farther than the three of them before burning ruby eyes opened to gaze up at Astha. “I’ve hurt too many.”

Astha smiled as she continued offering her wrist. “I trust you, tovarash,” she stated before reaching up and slicing her skin with a sharp nail, and Abel lunged for her wrist, a snarl echoing through the air. She gasped when the sharp fangs pierced her skin, and Seth closed her eyes to better listen to both of them. Slowly, Abel’s heartbeat grew more steady from the frantic pounding it had been doing, and Seth reached down to gently pull Astha’s wrist away from the Crusnik who only purred before falling asleep.

“ Just rest, Duchess, until the room stops spinning some,” advised Seth, and Astha nodded, one hand going to her head as she closed her eyes. Green eyes looked over the rest of the people gathered around before settling on the kneeling blonde woman. “The only question that remains is what to do with you. Especially since I’m not sure if you were aiming for me or his Holiness when you decided to pull that little stunt.”

“ The *only* question?” thundered Francesco, his face turning red in fury. “That is not the only question.” He turned to glare at Catarina. “How long has this *vampire*” he spat the word like a curse as he pointed at the sleeping Abel “been on Vatican grounds and why have you allowed it?”

“ He is not a Methuselah, Cardinal di Medici,” drawled Seth, rising to her feet to stare down the man who towered over her. “He is a Crusnik, and he also deserves your respect or at least your decency.”

Anise snarled and thrashed in Teal’c’s grip. “You should all be destroyed!” she snarled, golden eyes glaring at an unruffled Seth. “I will not let you destroy us!”

“ You are the one who attacked Her Imperial Majesty and His Holiness!” growled Ion, his fangs flashing in the light as he clenched his hands. “You should be glad that the Black Angel was here to stop your pitiful attempt!”

There was a polite cough and Seth glanced over to find Catarina regarding both her and Abel with something akin to curiosity. “Father Nightroad has told me much about his past but he’s never mentioned being this Black Angel,” she remarked, obviously inviting Seth to share the information.

“ It’s a Methuselah legend,” began Astha as she slowly stood, her now healed wrist cradled in her hand. “When the Terans and Methuselah waged war on each other, four angels emerged from the darkness, known as the Blue, the White, the Green, and the Black Angels. They fought on the side of the Terans until something drove the White, Black and Green Angels to the Methuselah side, bringing victory to their allies and ruin to their enemies. Then, one day, they all vanished, taking the war with them.”

“ But I thought that Abel here was the best weapon against the Methuselah that the military had,” protested Jack, a confused look on his face. “Why would he turn on them?”

A bitter smile twisted Seth’s lips as she looked at them. “Because we were weapons,” she stated, her voice reflecting the anger she still felt at the long-dead soldiers. “For over fifteen years, from the time we were created in a military lab until we got sick of it, we were reminded almost daily that we were nothing but weapons. We were never addressed by name, only by our designation. We had to remind each other what our true names were, the ones *we* picked out for ourselves and not the ones that were assigned to us.”

“ Created?” That came from Ion, his voice cracking slightly on the word, and Seth nodded.

“ Our parents were test tubes,” confessed Abel, and Seth looked down to find him struggling to stand. She helped him to his feet and his wings flared when he staggered, helping him regain his balance. “Only Lilith had been born naturally, and that was one of the reasons that she continued fighting for the humans when the rest of us realized that all we would ever be to the military were weapons and not people.”

“ What changed?” Seth and Abel turned to look at Alessandro who was gazing at them with a curious if a bit wary gaze in his gray eyes. “I mean, the war stopped and Father Nightroad is working with the Vatican.”

A small sigh slipped out of Seth. “Cain told us that Lilith wanted to talk about a peace accord,” she began, her fingers clenching in Abel’s torn robe. “So he went first to talk to her. Only, it was a trap set up by him to take Lilith out.” She shook her head, her black hair swirling around her shoulders. “For whatever reason, he had gone insane, wanting to conquer both Methuselah and Teran and rule the world like some god. He attacked Lilith, and when we came to find him after he missed his check-in deadline, he confessed to what he did.”

“ That was when we shoved him out of the airlock,” concluded Abel in a grim tone. “Unfortunately, he has not only survived, but has a new name to go along with the new atrocities he’s committed. Contra Mundi.”

That got a hiss from Catarina. “Are you sure?” she demanded.

“ Igne natura renova tur integra,” intoned Abel. “By Flames shall the Earth be reborn. That was Cain’s personal motto, one he believed in and spurred us on with. It was the so-called destruct code of the Star of Sorrow.”

“ Radu also taunted us with that when we were running from the Inquisitorial soldiers,” Ion stated, his red eyes distant as he thought of his dead friend turned traitor. “It was before you showed up with the boat, Father Abel.”


	8. Temptation Be Thy Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Abel decides to retire to open a club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an old one. Enjoy!

Father Abel Nightroad stood in front of the jeweler’s shop and stared into the window. Catarina had brought him along on her shopping trip so they could spend some time together as friends and attempt to get him out of the almost melancholy mood he had slipped into lately. They had been spending an enjoyable morning when she had announced that she wanted to stop at a jeweler to see about a few of the Sforza pieces that she had put in for cleaning. Abel had remarked that he would stay outside when his eye had been caught by shimmering crimson. He turned and found his eyes drawn to a life sized gold apple that was coated in a pearlescent red lacquer and accented with a golden stem holding a single leaf lacquered a glowing emerald.

“Abel?” Catarina inquired, touching his arm.

He shook his head and offered a wry smile. “Forgive me, but my attention was caught quite firmly by that apple.” Even as he talked, his eyes were pulled back to the apple, studying it. He could just barely make out a seam around the apple, indicating it opened somehow. Absently he wondered if he had enough money to purchase it, even though he wasn’t one for useless trinkets or souvenirs courtesy of his military training.

He didn’t notice Catarina slipping into the shop, but he did let out a small sound of distress as he watched the apple be removed from the window. Quickly, he dug into his pocket, thinking he might be able to offer more money for the jeweled apple, only to slump in disappointment when a few notes and coins graced his hand. A soft sigh slipped out of Abel as he pocketed the money again. Perhaps he might talk to the proprietor and find out for himself how much the apple would have cost so he might save his pay to buy another one.

A rustling of skirts caught his attention, and Abel looked up as Catarina rejoined him, a smile on her face and a box in her hands. She held the box out to Abel. “You have been so selfless, giving everything you have and more to those you believe deserves it more. Allow me to give something back.”

Placing the bags he was holding on the ground, Abel took the box before carefully opening it. There, nestled in white tissue paper was the apple, and he smiled at her, grateful tears in his eyes. “Thank you, Catarina.”

“Anything for you, Abel. You know that,” Catarina replied, rising up on her toes to kiss his cheek. She grinned and hooked his arm. “Come on. Let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Abel chuckled and picked up the bags again, being sure to carefully tuck the precious box into them before he was pulled along to a nice, discreet restaurant. The staff was use to members of the clergy visiting and didn’t bat an eye when Catarina requested a back corner booth, and Abel instantly slid into the side where he could watch most of the room, centuries of habits hard to break. Catarina just smiled and ordered tea for them both before picking up her menu. Once their orders were taken and the drinks left behind, Abel pulled out the apple, running his fingers over the surface as he examined every bit of it.

“What is it about that apple that has you so fascinated?” inquired Catarina, a touch of amusement in her voice. He had taken off his gloves and was running his bare fingers over the apple, exploring the smoothness of the lacquer and the secure setting of the emerald leaf.

“I am not sure, honestly,” Abel confessed with a wry grin. “It’s as if it wants to start an idea in my head, based around this apple, but it isn’t clear.” He let out a startled yet pleased noise when the apple gave a soft click and the top popped up a few centimeters. He carefully opened the apple, noticing where the hinges had been cleverly hidden to give no indication that it was even a box, and he stared down into it. “I believe the proprietor will be missing this.”

Sitting on a bed of white velvet was a broach made out of a single blood red ruby carved in the shape of an apple with a small emerald as the leaf emerging from a gold stem. It was just as beautiful as the apple box it was sitting in, but Abel knew that neither Catarina nor himself had know this valuable piece of jewelry had been in the box when it was purchased. A giggle caught his attention, and Abel looked up to find Catarina with a hand over her mouth.

“Now I know why the cost was so much,” she mused before shrugging. “I bought the entire box, Abel. Including what was in it.” She smiled. “I wasn’t going to separate you from the object of your fascination, even if I didn’t know fully what that was.”

A light blush stained Abel’s cheeks as he looked at her. “This is a priceless gift,” he murmured. “Made all the more so because you gave it to me. Thank you.” Now Catarina’s cheeks were dusted with pink, and Abel smiled as he returned his attention to the box. With the broach in it, he was feeling that niggling of an idea even stronger now. “I think I’m going to need a notebook and something to write in. May we stop at a stationery store next?”

“Of course. I have a few things I need to pick up in a store like that myself,” Catarina remarked with a smile and a shrug. “I need a few more sticks of sealing wax for my family dealings.”

“How are those going?” Abel inquired, closing the apple and putting it away for now. He would let the idea simmer and once he had blank paper, he would see what would come from it.

@@@

Frowning, Abel sat in the garden with his notebook on his lap and a pen in his hand, and he continued scribbling away, ideas coming fast and heavy as if they had simply been waiting for him to find the key to release them. And the key was the apple box and its matching brooch. Since Catarina had presented it to him, he had been getting more and more ideas for a partial club and partial sanctuary for certain individuals who were not always welcome in the human villages. He had acquired four more notebooks from the stationery shop, and three of them were full of sketches, ideas, and questions that he would have to get answered before he could start this club. There was also a list of people he would have to talk with to get his ideas out to others as well as to inquire about the cost of various services. This was not going to be cheap by any stretch of the imagination, but Abel hoped that the services that were provided would be worth the cost.

*Of course, one of my largest problems will be finding where to set this up,* sighed Abel, looking over his latest notes. He was definitely going to have to start walking around to find a good spot as he wasn’t sure this would be welcome in Rome, yet he didn’t want to be outside the city as his main customer base would be living in Rome itself. But that in itself wasn’t the largest of his problems as the one to hold that title was the idea that if he were to follow through with these plans, he would have to leave the Vatican and devote his entire time to this.

And he wasn’t sure he could leave his friends short handed like that.

Finishing a last thought, Abel closed the journal and stared down at the plain cover with a simple numeric four inscribed on it. Planning for something was all well and good, but could he truly leave the Vatican and everything he had known for the past several years to chase a dream? Cain was still out there, but with the various bounties on his head and those of his upper echelons, the blond Crusnik wasn’t emerging from his hole anytime soon. Peace had been established between the Empire and the human kingdoms, thus allowing Catarina’s dream to come to fruition, and Albion’s lost princess had been discovered and returned to her family.

“Yo, Father Four Eyes,” greeted a voice, and Abel looked up as Father Leon Garcia de Asturia dropped down to sit next to him. Dark eyes glanced at the notebook in Abel’s lap. “You’re always writing in one of those any more. What bee is buzzing in your ear?”

“It’s an idea,” Abel confessed, his voice soft as he absently stroked a hand over the cover. “Perhaps even a dream, but I’m not sure it will ever become a reality.” Not with the problem of leaving the AX hovering over him as the price to pay.

Leon hummed, getting a curious glance from Abel, but the Spaniard simply looked at him, interested. “Tell me about this dream, and maybe I can help it become a reality.”

Abel hesitated a moment as he thought about the offer. Would it be better or worse to talk about something that might never come true? But if he talked to another person, he could get a fresh perspective and perhaps a solution to a few of the problems. Nodding once, Abel stood up. “Come on. The rest of the notebooks are in my room.”

“So what can you tell me without your notebooks?” Leon inquired as they walked through the Vatican hallways. He smiled and winked at a few of the nuns, getting giggles and blushes from them while Abel watched in amusement. Leon was one person that would never change his habits, and that was comforting in a strange way. Abel knew that no matter what else changed in the world, Leon would always be a flirt and the definition of a Spaniard.

“Well, if I chose to pursue this, I’ll probably have to leave the Vatican,” Abel confessed, his voice soft as he voiced his major problem. “Yet that would leave the department short handed with Esther being returned to her family.”

Leon frowned, a thoughtful look on his face. “The missions haven’t been as bad since the Order went underground, and the Fleur du Mal has been rounded up to the member,” he mused, shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced over at Abel with a small, reassuring smile. “I don’t see why you couldn’t leave, especially if you were going to stay in the city so we could visit on our time off.”

“That is another problem,” Abel stated with a soft sigh. “I don’t know of any place that would be suitable for what I’m planning. I’ll need a lot of room and green space to grow various plants and trees.” He definitely needed trees and green space for the second half of his plan to work, perhaps even an orchard to supplement the grocery bill for the club. He frowned and flipped open his notebook, turning to a clean page as he scribbled another idea down. It would probably be a bit costly to have an indoor waterfall and spring, but it could be part of the sanctuary half of the club.

“Well, depending on where you wanted to build this dream, you could always buy land around it, and with a bit of work, turn it into a green space,” Leon suggested. Abel blinked at him, that idea not occurring to him before. He had been looking at a single space large enough for his needs, but if he could purchase multiple places and melding it into one space, that would work even more. He smiled and scribbled that down into the notebook as well.

“Thank you, Leon,” he almost chirped as they entered his room. Leon shut the door behind them as Abel placed the notebook on his small table next to the other ones. Reaching out, Abel let his fingers drift over the apple box that had started this dream.

“What I have planned is a combination private club and sanctuary,” Abel began, picking up the apple and turning to look at Leon. “The club part would be for those who could afford the price of membership with three different levels of membership, each one with more ‘rights’ and privileges than the one below it.”

“And the sanctuary part?” inquired Leon, walking over to look at the sketches that Abel was laying out from his notebook. Visual ideas for the club and a basic grounds layout plus the occasional sketch of something that caught his eye, and he incorporated into the overall design that worked with the rest of the sketches.

A small smile crossed Abel’s face. “For the Fae that live in Rome, partially trapped by the humans, as well as the Methuselah and witches. This would give them a place to live in safely while still offering a job for them where they won’t be persecuted.”

That got a low whistle from Leon. “When you dream, it’s big, isn’t it?” he teased with a smile. “At least I know why you need growing space now.” He tilted his head as he looked over the various sketches. “Tell me more about the club part.”

“It will be a private club of course,” Abel began, flipping open another journal to reveal a list of written rules. “With private play rooms if people wish to bring their human pets in or just fool around without getting caught. It will have a restaurant-like atmosphere on the upper tiers that look out over the dance floor. Private meeting rooms will also be available for rent with the understanding that anything illegal discussed there will be turned over to the proper authorities and memberships will be revoked with no refunds.”

“Nice, and it covers you and your workers,” remarked Leon, admiration in his voice. “What’s the different memberships and what do they cost?”

“I haven’t decided on the price yet, but the three levels will be Gentry, Nobility, and Royalty,” Abel explained, holding the apple out with the lid off. “Each member will be issued a brooch in a specific color with a number on it, the color telling what their membership level is while the number will be recorded next to their real names and address so if they wish to use an alias while in the club, I would still know who was causing trouble. The Gentry is the lowest, cheapest membership with simple gold brooches. They will have the fewest extras available to them or they will have to pay extra to enjoy the same privileges that the other classes have. Next, the Nobility will have a green peridot brooch, more privileges and a lower cost for the extra ones. The Royalty will have ruby broaches, the most privileges, and invitations to special events that are hosted. There will also be silver ‘guest’ brooches available to each rank, the number limited by the membership.”

“Which will let others come in to see if they want to spend the money for a membership.” Leon nodded. “Smart.” He tilted his head. “What about those with pets?”

“The pets would have a special brooch that could be either pinned on or hooked to a collar,” Abel remarked pointing to a picture of two brooches that had both a pin and a loop on it. “Their numbers would correspond with their owners, and they would be silver with some indicator as to their master’s level, a stripe of gold or a peridot or ruby set into the metal.”

Leon nodded again. “What about your staff? Will they have uniforms?”

“Yes. Those in the restaurant tiers will have nice pants, button down shirts and aprons, like the staff in an upper class restaurant,” Abel stated. He had thought long and hard about this one. “The ones in the club part will dress more like various Fae are imagined to look like, such as a body stocking with leaves in strategic places and a bit of green make up for a so-called dryad.” He smiled. “They will wear opal brooches, again with a number on them linked to a specific name.”

“That also makes it harder for someone to try and get a duplicate brooch made to make their way into a higher class without paying the dues,” the Spaniard said, admiration in his voice. “What will the outside look like?”

Abel shrugged a shoulder. “Either the front of a very nice mansion or a very nice warehouse. The front door will only have a discrete brass plaque next to it with the name of the club, and a doorman bouncer in the entry hall where the coat room is. There will also be simple domino masks there for those who wish anonymity, but again, they will be color coordinated to match the broach and have a corresponding number printed on it. Only coat girls, the bouncers, and myself will know who they really are unless they wish others to know. That way, security can announce that ‘Green 74' is causing troubles, and I can speak to them privately to discover what was happening.”

Reaching out, he tapped a few buildings sketched into the general plan for the layout. “These would be apartment complexes for the workers who either didn’t have a place to stay or preferred the safety of staying there. Each apartment would be soundproof so as to not disturb the neighbors, but there would be an emergency button to hit should someone end up in trouble. The Methuselah that work for me would be my security as they should be able to handle any trouble that appears while those that are not good with crowds will work behind the scenes as cleaning staff, cooks or other jobs that do not bring them into contact with a large amount of people.”

“Sounds like you have everything planned out,” Leon remarked with a shake of his head before a thoughtful look crossed his face. ‘Ya know, I might know of an area where you could set this up. It’s about middle class, but they have some empty buildings where people had moved away and no one moved in. Something like this could help out the local economy if you shopped from them for supplies like foodstuff.”

Abel looked at him in surprise before reaching for his notebook again, scribbling that idea down. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Thank you.”

Leon grinned and started closing the other notebooks, carefully putting them into a pile. “Now, you have a meeting to attend before you can get started on this project of yours.”

“I do?’ Abel blinked at him, confused. He didn’t know of any meetings scheduled for today, either for the AX or the Department in general or Catarina would have told him. Then he frowned at Leon’s wording. What meeting would he have to attend *before* starting this project? “What meeting?”

Gathering up the notebooks, Leon placed the apple shaped box in Abel’s hands before steering him back out into the hallways. “A very important one.”

Abel continued trying to get answers out of Leon about this supposed meeting, but the Spaniard just smiled and pulled Abel along. Some of the clergy were smiling at their antics while a few nuns giggled behind their hands, but Abel was unable to get any further information out of Leon. It wasn’t until Leon opened a very familiar door and partially pulled him through that Abel realized they were in the office part of the Vatican, and he looked up to find Catarina looking at them with an amused smile on her face.

“How can I help you gentlemen?” she inquired, putting the paperwork she had been dealing with aside as Leon placed some very familiar journals on her desk. Abel watched in growing disbelief as Leon flipped through the journals, stopping on pages filled with his crude sketches before stepping back to gesture at Abel.

“Father Nightroad needs to speak to you about his project,” Leon began, and Abel felt like groaning. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this. It was just an idea, nothing concrete, and not really the best thing to get anyone’s hopes up about. Swallowing hard, he curled his fingers around the apple shaped box as he stared at the floor.

“It’s just an idea,” he murmured, his fingers itching to collect his journals and vanish back into his room. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous about this, but a few ideas popped into his head. Not enough money to get it started, not enough money to get it *finished*, no one interested in applying for a membership, unable to support the sanctuary side of things, and the really scary thought that it actually might work for a while but fail in a year or two.

“Even ideas can turn into reality,” Catarina remarked, her voice soft. Abel looked up at her to find a friendly smile on her face. “Come, tell me about this idea of yours, and let me help you as you have helped me.”

Slowly, Abel started talking, explaining as he used the sketches to illustrate his plans. As he went, he grew in confidence, offering more details and expanding on what he had told Leon before. Leon spoke up, remarking on the neighborhood he knew about, but otherwise, Abel talked, answering Catarina’s questions as they occurred. He paused when one of the serving maids brought tea in for them, but picked right up again when she left, flipping to another page in his journals to show off another design.

“It sounds like you have quite the plan, Abel,” Catarina remarked almost an hour later. Leon and Abel had both finally taken seats in front of her desk with Abel occasionally standing up to point something out in a journal. “When do you plan on starting your project?”

Abel sighed and slumped. “I don’t know. I have to look at my finances and see where I stand there,” he confessed before licking dry lips. “And if I wish to pursue this, I’ll have to leave the AX.”

Catarina nodded, understanding on her face. “You will be staying locally?” When Abel nodded, she smiled again. “Then you’ll have to invite me for the grand opening.” Abel stared at her, stunned, and she softly laughed. “You have helped me achieve my dream, why should I hold you back from finding yours? Especially since this sounds like a wonderful dream and something that you will enjoy tremendously.”

“But I would be leaving you understaffed,” Abel protested. Now he could admit he was a bit scared. He’d never done anything for himself before, always following other people, but this would be for him and him alone. It was rather intimidating but also a touch exciting. Something that would be all his, like the Empire was Seth’s.

She stood up and walked around the desk to take Abel’s hands in hers. “It is admirable that your first concern is us, but you have a dream now. Like peace was my dream.” She bent and kissed his forehead. “I expect an invitation to the grand opening, and if you need *any* assistance in making this come true, you will come to me immediately. Anything from more money to just needing someone to listen to you unload your troubles.”

A shy smile curled his lips as he looked at her. “I will still need to check my finances before I can really put any of this into action,” he remarked. Since he had been living at the Vatican, he really hadn’t paid attention to money, not when he was getting free room and board. He really didn’t know if he had enough to get this off the ground, but perhaps he could apply for a loan.

Catarina chuckled and returned to her desk to remove a file. “You mean these?”

A faint frown crossed Abel face as he took the folder, and when he opened it, he could only stare in disbelief at the figures there. It was a detailed spread sheet of various investments and the state of a very healthy bank account in his name. He looked up at Catarina, confused. “I don't understand. Where did all of this come from?”

“Your retirement fund,” Catarina replied, and she laughed at Abel's look of disbelief. “Everyone has a small retirement fund that is started when they work at the Vatican. I took half of that and invested it for you since you never showed any interest in it.” She smiled. “I wanted to make sure you would be taken care of when I was gone.”

He bit his lip and looked down at the numbers again. He could think of a lot of people who could use these funds, including a couple of orphanages in Albion. Gentle hands closed the folder before lifting his face so he looked at Catarina. “You are going to use this money to build your club and help those in Rome. Make up a list of people and places you usually help, and I will ensure that they continue to receive help.” She placed a finger over his lips and shook her head. “You will not argue with me about this or I will make it an order.”

“I can refuse the order,” Abel protested, but his heart wasn't into it. He had the basics for his club and sanctuary in his hands. While not a fortune, it was enough to get things started.

Catarina smiled and kissed his forehead. “But you won't because this is your dream. Just once, I want you to be greedy enough to grab this with both hands and hold on as tight as you can. If you need something to think about, focus on the people you will be helping with your dream.”

“I'll need help,” Abel offered, glancing at Leon before returning his attention to Catarina. “I've never had a business before, and I know I'm going to make mistakes.”

“That's no problem,' Leon remarked with a grin. “You should also let that pretty senorita in the Empire know you're changing professions.”

Blinking at Leon, it took a few seconds for Abel to realize who he was talking about, before he groaned and buried his face in his hands. Telling Astha would mean that Seth would know soon after, and he had mixed feelings about telling them. Part of him wanted to crow about his club, get their ideas and suggestions, but another part wanted to surprise them both with the finished project. He frowned as he thought about that. Seth had experience in creating something from nothing so she might have some advice for him. “I'll talk to my sister, but I want to surprise Astha with the club.”

Catarina looked at him in surprise. “I didn't know you had a sister.”

“We're siblings by adoption instead of blood,” Abel explained with a small shrug. “She lives in the Empire, and we actually lost touch with each other for a while until I ended up there with the Earl of Memphis.”

A low hum came from Leon. “Is she like you?” When Abel nodded, knowing the Spaniard meant his Crusnik abilities, Leon grinned. “I can't wait to meet her.”

The soft purr in Leon's words received a roll of Abel's eyes, and he wondered if he should warn Seth before deciding against it. She was a big girl and could take care of herself. Even from a prowling Spaniard. Besides, if Seth broke Leon, she'd have to take care of him or risk his daughter's wrath. That was something not even Abel dared to do, because young Sophia was a true Spanish Lady. It took a great deal to soothe her once her temper had been sparked.

“Will you be allowing others to invest in your club to offset the building and start up expenses?” Catarina inquired, bringing the conversation back to Abel's hopeful dream.

A deep frown crossed his face at that question. “I'm not sure. If I do, it would be in a limited capacity with the option to repurchase those shares.” While he might need help in starting his club, he didn't want other people telling him how to run it. Suggestions were fine, but outright ordering him to do something to his club or in his club was not welcomed.

Catarina nodded and grinned. “Let me know if you do, because I'll be happy to invest.”

Leon nodded. “Me too.” He offered Abel a rakkish grin. “I may not have much, but I'm happy to help out.”

“Thank you my friends,” Abel remarked, touched by their generosity. Leon didn't have the most money or even resources, and so Abel was especially moved by his generous offer. He glanced at the folder in his hands, the journals on Catarina's desk, and the apple shaped box that had started everything, and he felt a flutter in his stomach grow. The dream was slowly becoming a reality, and Abel only hoped that it would continue to do so.

“Are there any missions today?” inquired Leon, and Abel glanced at the Spaniard before his eyes narrowed in suspicion. What was he up to now?

Catarina moved behind her desk and flipped through a notebook of her own, her eyes flickering over the pages. “Nothing serious has appeared to warrant an immediate investigation, and the only planned mission in the upcoming months is a visit to the Empire.” She glanced at Abel with a smirk. “I think you should go on that one, Abel. Give you a chance to visit with your sister.”

Rolling his eyes, Abel huffed at her words but he was quietly delighted at the prospect of visiting Seth. The last line he had been there, there hadn't been much time to casually visit as Abel had to return to the Vatican with Esther to alert Catarina about Cain's latest move. This new visit would also give him a chance to talk to Seth about his club.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Abel looked up to find Leon standing there with a smirk on his lips. “Well, if you don't need us, I have a neighborhood to show Abel. It might be the future site of his club if he likes it well enough.”

“Let me know how that works out,” Catarina remarked, sitting back in her chair as Abel rose to his feet, collecting his journals. She grinned at them. “You might want to dress as civilians, and don't forget a blank notebook, Abel.” She waved the folder back to Abel when he tried to return it. “That's your copy. I'll give you the bank books when you go to get started.”

“Thank you, Catarina,” Abel murmured, tucking the folder between the journals before scooping up the apple box again. “Perhaps we might have dinner together tomorrow so I might give you an update?”

She smiled at him. “I would enjoy that greatly.'

“Until then, my friend,” Abel said with a smile and a bow. Then he turned to follow Leon out of the office.

In the hall, Leon grinned at Abel. “That wasn't so bad, now was it?”

“A bit more warning would have been nice,” huffed Abel, but his heart really wasn't into it. Not with the new information he held in his hands. He supposed he should have been upset with Catarina for investing part of his paycheck, but if she hadn't then he would not have the ability to start his dream. He looked up at Leon, a small smile on his face. “Meet you at the front gate? I want to change into something other than my cassock.”

Smirking, Leon lightly punched Abel's arm. “I'm looking forward to seeing you with your hair down.”

A light blush stained Abel's cheeks at the teasing tone, but Leon was already walking down the hall. Shaking his head, Abel slipped through the halls and into his room before he placed his journals and the folder on the table by the window. Then he turned his attention to his closet, shaking his head at all the black that was there. It was truly a sad affair when the only outfit he had to wear aside from his cassocks and priest's clothing was the military-esque uniform that was over nine hundred years old. Maybe he could pick up a few more outfits today while he and Leon were out. He easily changed into the black pants and mock turtle neck shirt that clung to his body, outlining his form very nicely, before he fastened the white robe over top. Part of him wanted to add the ancient dogtags as well, but he kept them in the small bag where he had packed them. He went to turn from the closet when a leather messenger bag caught his eye in the very bottom. He had bought it on a whim a few years ago only to have tossed it in the closet and had forgotten all about it. But now, it was large enough to carry his journals and the precious apple box. Pulling it out, he tucked the information that he would need in it before slinging it across his chest. With a fond pat to the soft leather, Abel started towards the front gate, firmly ignoring the stares of the other clergy as he went.

@@@

Leon leaned against the wall with his head tipped back and eyes closed as he basked in the sun. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his pants, and his whole appearance was one of casual relaxation, but his mind what whirling with thoughts and ideas. Abel's club sounded like a great idea, allowing the club part to pay for the sanctuary half, and Leon hoped that everything would work out for the silver haired man. If things started going wrong, Leon had a few favors he could call in to help Abel out without the other man knowing about it.

“Ready to go?” inquired a voice, and Leon opened his eyes to find Abel standing there with a slightly nervous expression on his face. Blinking, Leon looked at Abel, feeling like he was looking at the man for the first time. Long silver hair that was normally pulled up into a tail now fell in a straight river past Abel's hips, and now that his eyes weren't hidden behind glasses, Leon could see that they held a slight slant, giving Abel an even more exotic look. Combined with his delicate features, Abel was one very gorgeous man.

Leon chuckled and straightened up from his slouch. “Sure. Ready to check out that neighborhood I mentioned?”

Abel nodded and fell into step beside the Spaniard as they strolled down the street. They chatted about various things with Abel occasionally scribbling an idea in one of his notebooks. Leon couldn't help but realize that Abel was very adept at writing and walking at the same time, and Leon wondered how much practice Abel had to develop that particular skill. As they walked, the neighborhood shifted from pure business to a mix of business and residential, and many of the stores were now more focused on the neighborhood with mix of items offered for sale. There were getting curious looks from various people, but there were no hostile faces which allowed Leon to relax next to Abel.

“This is a wonderful neighborhood,” Abel confessed as he settled on the edge of a fountain and looked around. “But I'm not sure if my club would be appropriate here.”

“How come?” asked Leon, placing a foot next to Abel and leaning on his knee.

“My club is very non-family oriented,” Abel pointed out with a slight blush on his cheeks. “And vehicles arriving and leaving at all hours of the night would be disruptive as well.”

Leon shrugged. “You can always ask some of the people who actually live here about that. Besides, you haven't seen the property I'm thinking about.”

Abel chuckled as he inclined his head in agreement. “Very true. Lead on, and I shall follow.”

Grinning, Leon lead Abel through the streets again, but this time, the buildings started transforming into larger, more industrial buildings. Abel frowned as they continued, but it was a thoughtful frown instead of a troubling one. Children played in the streets, filling the air with happy shouts and laughter, and Abel laughed as he caught a ball tossed his way before he threw it back, getting invitations shouted at him to come and play. The shouts changed when it was obvious that Abel wasn't stopping to play with them, and the children and their game were left behind after a few blocks.

“We're right on the edge of the industrial sector,” Leon remarked, finally stopping in front of a chain link fence. “These properties have been abandoned for the better part of a decade because no one wants to take the risk of starting something only to have one of the buildings collapse or need more work than they are willing to pay.”

Abel nodded in understanding as he peered through the fence. “Yet they would be perfect for me since I will be tearing down and rebuilding to my specification.” He tilted his head as he stared at the land beyond the fence. “Do you think we might be able to take a look around the property?”

Leon glanced around, trying to find an indication on whom currently owned the properties only to grin at someone who was watching them from a nearby building. There was a curious yet hopeful expression on the man's face as Leon walked over to him. A smile appeared on the man's face when Leon was close enough. “May I help you?”

“Do you know who we would talk to about touring a few properties around here?” Leon inquired before nodding back to Abel. “My friend has an idea of what sort of land he needs but he's still looking for the right location.”

The man nodded, his expression shifting to one of caution as he tilted his head. “My wife tries to sell the land but few are interested.” He hummed. “Forgive me for being cautious, but what guarantee do I have that my wife and I will be unharmed while in your company?”

“It is an understandable concern, senior, and allow me to provide a bit of comfort,” Leon replied, pulling out his Vatican ID. The man's eyes widened slightly but some of the tension drained out of him. “My friend is looking to retire from the Seminary and provide service in other ways.” He chuckled and shook his head. “But I will let him talk about his dream.”

The man nodded before hurrying inside the building while Leon wandered back over to rejoin Abel. He looked at the silver haired man to find a distant, thoughtful look on his face. “What's on your mind, Father Four Eyes?”

“I am going to need a large, secure parking lot or some way for them to contact their drivers when they're ready to leave,” Abel remarked before he focused on Leon. “Did you find someone to help us?”

Leon nodded and jerked a thumb back towards the building. “His wife apparently is trying to sell the land, so he's going to get her.”

Absently, Abel nodded as he turned back to stare through the fence, a distant look in his eyes again, and Leon figured he was thinking about his club again. Briefly closing his eyes, Leon said a silent prayer to God and any saint that would listen that Abel's dream would become a successful reality for the silver haired man who had sacrificed so much for everyone else. The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Leon out of his prayer, and he opened his eyes to find the man approaching with a woman wearing a neat suit with a scarf holding her hair back. Leon nudged Abel who started before turning around to smile at the couple. Leon noticed the woman looked a bit nervous so he pulled out his ID again, and Abel followed his actions a few seconds later. The woman took each one, examining it closely before she handed them back.

“You are interested in the land?” she inquired after introducing herself as Francine and her husband as Marco. “If I may ask, what are you planning?”

“A private and exclusive club that will also provide living space and work opportunities for those who need it,” Abel stated as she opened the gate to let them in.

Francine nodded as she started leading them around the land. “What all are you planning? I don't need to know the details, but the generalization will help me know how much land you will need.”

Abel nodded and pulled out a notebook, opening it to a certain page. “This is an overview of what I have planned.”

She nodded as she looked at it. “So definitely a lot of land but not too much concern with buildings.”

That received another nod, and she lead them farther into the property, talking about the land itself and how easy or difficult it would be to remove certain items. Abel nodded as he listened to her advice, and he occasionally asked a question which she enthusiastically answered before expanding on the subject or idea.

“As you can see, the property is quite extensive,” Francine remarked after leading them up to the factory roof. She gestured around at the concrete land that was littered with weeds and plants growing through cracks. “However, as you also wish to build an apartment complex on the land, I suggest you purchase four properties in a square and merge them into one.”

“That would give me room to expand as needed, and the space for gardens and an orchard,” mused Abel, looking over the land with a critical eye.

“Are you planning on buying anything local?” Marco inquired, drawing Abel's attention. It was a fair question as far as Leon was concerned, but right now, he was only acting as a second set of eyes for Abel.

“Everything I can, but I know some things I can't get locally, or I won't be able to purchase enough of,” remarked the silver haired man with an apologetic smile. “Such as food. No offense to the local shopkeepers, but they can only produce so much food for both the community and the club.”

Marco nodded, apparently understanding that explanation from the expression on his face, and Leon grinned as he looked around himself. The Spaniard could easily see the sprawling mansion style club with the lush gardens surrounding it and turning it into an ethereal playground for those who were willing to pay for the privilege. With the concrete and industrial buildings removed, there was a lot of space for Abel's dream to grow here.

“How much is it going to be for these four pieces?” Abel asked, gesturing to the land in question only to wince when she stated a price. He pulled a folder out of the messenger bag and flipped it open, looking at it for a few minutes. “It might take a bit to get all of the money, but I have about a third of that price right now.'

Francine nodded,a thoughtful look on her face. “I'll put your name on the properties as a potential buyer, and I'll see about holding them for four months,” she offered. “But I do hope you understand that if another person offers me the full price during that time, I will have to go with them.”

“I understand as you have to make a living as well,” Abel replied with his gentle smile even as he tucked the folder away. “If I can't assemble the funds at the end of month three, I will let you know.”

Francine nodded again and handed Abel her card. “If any of the land is sold, I'll find you another quartet that's about the same size.”

“Thank you,' Abel murmured with a smile before it faded into a thoughtful frown. “How do you think the neighborhood would react to my club?”

She tilted her head as she gave serious consideration to the question. “What sort are you going to offer jobs here? You said those who need it.”

“Those who are looked down by society and whose greatest crime is to be born different,' Abel confessed, his voice soft, and Leon grimaced slightly at the memory of the Neverland orphans. They hadn't asked for Barrie to turn them into living science experiments and many people would shun them for being different.

“A father even after the Seminary,” Francine remarked before brushing a kiss across Abel's cheek. “I hope to speak to you in three months, Father Nightroad and I look forward to touring your club when it's finished.”

Abel blushed and shyly ducked his head. “If you know of any good construction companies or landscaping services, please let me know?”

laughing softly, Francine nodded and the four of them left the property before separating to head towards their own destinations, Francine and Marco back to her office and Leon and Abel in the general direction of the business district near the Vatican.

“Well you found a possible location,” Leon remarked as they settled in a cafe and Abel pulled out a new notebook, turning to a bank page before starting to write in it. “Now what?”

“I need to start figuring out how much it's going to cost to start everything,” Abel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn't know that property cost so much. The jewelry will probably be just as expensive.”

Leon nodded in agreement. “Maybe you should make a list of items that need pricing to keep track of various quotes from various people.'

“For that, I would have to know more than one person to ask about pricing,” grumbled Abel with a frustrated sigh. “And walking around, randomly asking people about costs would only annoy people and wast time.”

“Why don't you ask the local guilds?” Leon chuckled at Abel's stunned expression. “Didn't think about that, did you?”

“No I didn't,” confessed the silver haired man with a rueful smile. “I'm also not entirely certain what all I need for the club itself. I have *some* idea but the actual quantities are not known.”

“Talk to the guilds and see what advice they can give you,' Leon advised with a shrug. “I don't think any of them would deliberately overcharge you, but you can also see about talking to other business people to get a general idea of what your costs might be.”

Abel shook his head and looked at Leon with an amused smile. “Just how do you know all of this?”

“My parents ran a small smithy,” Leon remarked. “I always planned on going into the military, but some things just sort of stick.”

Chuckling, Abel rested his chin on his hand as he smirked at the Spaniard. “You realize I'm going to be picking your brains with that information.”

With a smile, Leon sat back in his seat and spread his hands. “If I can help in any way, pick away.”

Settling into his chair, Abel opened a notebook, picked up his pen, and started asking questions.

@@@

Walking through the halls of the Imperial Palace, Abel listened to Leon quietly grumble, and he managed to resist the urge to laugh. It was obvious that Leon had not been expecting to be invited to the Palace for an immediate audience with the Empress. Abel had been half expecting something like that, but he thought they would have about a half hour to freshen up from their trip. His hand drifted down to brush against the messenger bag at his hip, and his fingers lingered on the slight bulge of the jeweled apple that had become his constant companion over the past month. With Leon's advice, Abel was slowly getting the paperwork and questions together that would help make his club a reality.

“Fathers Leon Garcia de Asturia and Abel Nightroad of the Vatican,” announced the herald, and Abel moved forward to kneel before the throne, his messenger bag coming off to lay next to him.

“We bring greetings from His Holiness, Pope Alessandro the Eighteenth for Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Augusta Vradica,” Abel announced, his voice almost echoing through the large hall.

“It is always a pleasure to receive guests from Our allies,” replied the deep voice of the Empress, and Abel smiled as he bowed his head, waiting. When the Empress didn't say anything more, Abel mentally settled himself to wait, wondering how long it would take for her to grow impatient enough to act. He heard Leon fidget next to him, but he ignored it, focusing on remaining still. It was an old game that they use to play on the station that drove both the officers and the scientists crazy.

After a few minutes, there was the soft sound of running footsteps, and Abel managed to resist flinching as a small body slammed into him, knocking him on his back. He grunted as his sister bounced on his lower ribs, trying to drive the air from his lungs. Looking up, he grinned at the slender figure of the Empress Augusta Vradica who sat there, draped in jewels and in a dress that had to weigh as much as she did.

“You know, I can't decide what weighs more, you or that dress you're wearing,” Abel drawled only to grunt again as the Empress, also known as Seth Nightlord, bounced on his ribs again.

“Don't you know it's rude to comment on a lady's weight?” Seth sniffed, crossing her arms across her chest. Abel was glad to see that she had aged a few years since he had last seen her.

A polite cough reminded him of Leon, and Abel looked over to find the Spaniard staring at both of them with a slightly amused expression on his face. “Going to introduce me, Abel?”

Chuckling, Abel leaned up on his elbows. “Leon, allow me to introduce the Eternal Mother of the Empire and my sister by adoption, Seth Nightlord. Brat, this is Leon Garcia de Asturia.”

Seth smirked at Leon's startled expression. “Didn't Abel tell you about me?”

“Yes, I did,” huffed Abel, frowning at her but his eyes were laughing. “I may have omitted the fact that you were the Empress however.”

That got a delighted laugh from Seth, and Abel grunted as she dug her knees into his ribs as she leaned sideways to offer Leon her had. “A pleasure to meet you, senor.”

Leon smirked and gallantly kissed her hand. “The pleasure is mine, senorita,” he purred, getting another delighted laugh from Seth before she climbed off of Abel, much to his relief. He gave a slight grimace as he sat up, rubbing his ribs for effect although he hadn't been kidding about that dress. It was dripping on metallic thread and jewels, and if Seth hadn't been a Crusnik, he would have bet that she'd been unable to move in it.

“Well, let me show you to your rooms so you can freshen up,” Seth remarked, climbing to her feet and wobbling slightly before she caught her balance. Abel snickered as he got to his feet as well, his messenger bag back across his chest. The snicker got a glare from Seth and a pointed finger poked in his chest. “Not one word about the dress.”

“I wasn't going to say a word, Sister Dear,” Abel remarked, an innocent expression on his face. She snorted and lightly whacked him on the arm as she moved past him, and Abel followed her as Leon fell into step beside him.

“So, why did you never mention that your adopted sister was the Empress?” inquired Leon. Abel glanced over at the Spaniard to find him looking at Abel out of the corner of his eye. There wasn't anything but curiosity on the other man's face, and Abel shrugged a shoulder.

“It had only been recently that we have been able to pick up communications again with each other again,” Abel explained, his voice soft. “And after such a long time, I didn't want to presume that we would have a good relationship to get any peace treaty signed on either side.”

“In other words, he was being very silly,” drawled Seth as she pushed the door open to reveal a nice little suite for the two of them. There was a nice living room with a pair of bedrooms off of the main room. There was also a very nice bathroom across from the bedrooms, and Leon whistled impressed with the decor. Abel looked around as he moved to the sitting room and pulled off his messenger bag, setting it on the couch, but he lingered near it, not too willing to wander far from it even in the safety of the palace.

Seth shook her head and poked Abel. “Are you going to tell me what's in that bag that's so valuable or do I get to guess?”

“That bag has been his constant companion for almost two months,” Leon announced with a grin. “As well as what's in it.”

A blush stained Abel's cheeks but he sighed, shaking his head. “It's a dream, but I'm finding it difficult to get enough funds together at this time. Catarina gave me the basis of it, but to get the right property, I need more money, not counting funds to get blueprints done, permits, and payments for a construction company.”

There was a hum from Seth as she tilted her head, staring at Abel. “Tell me about this and let me see how I can help.”

With a small sigh, Abel started pulling out the notebooks and the apple-shaped box from the bag. He knew an order when he heard it. Besides, he didn't want to wake up with his hair tied in braids with clashing ribbons. He wouldn't put it past Seth to do that to him if he didn't tell her. He was starting to wonder if this was even going to work out as every time he managed to get one thing taken care of, twelve more popped up demanding more funds or resources. He had spoken with the various guilds, and they had offered pricing on their guild specialties, yet the costs were adding up beyond his current funds. And he wasn't sure how to go about getting more to complete the club as well as get it open for business.

Seth remained silent throughout the entire presentation, her eyes flickering over the journals when presented but otherwise, she looked at Abel, taking everything in. Finally, he wound down and looked at Seth, waiting for her to say it was a bad idea, it would never work, it was great, something. *Anything*! But she just sat there for several minutes, an expressionless look on her face. Absently, he had to wonder if she was playing another version of their Statue Game, but he had to admit that it was very efficient at making him want to fidget.

“You have it very well thought out, Abel,” Seth finally said, and Abel was hard pressed to not jump at her words. She tilted her head as she continued looking at him. “And very sneaky of Catarina to put some of your money aside for a retirement fund. She knows you well.'

“She has already taken over the various charities and orphanages that I was helping with my funds,” Abel said with a soft sigh and a wry smile. The various orphanages were actually blooming under Catarina's attention, and Abel hoped that they would continue to grow just because of all of the children that were abandoned on the doorsteps. “I just didn't know how expensive opening something like this was going to be, and now, faced with the reality, I fear that the dream will never happen.”

“Unless you access the account held in trust for the Imperial Crown Prince,” Seth countered, a smirk on her face.

Abel frowned at her, confused. “But that would be for the Crown Prince, whomever he is.”

In all his time, he had never heard of an Imperial Crown Prince mentioned even in passing, and Abel figured that would be one thing he would have heard at least a rumor about. But the Empress was unwed and childless, or at least no child had ever been publicly presented. Abel figured it was because Seth hadn't found anyone to have a child with that she trusted without question. He blinked and looked warily at the smirk Seth was wearing. “What do you have planned, Seth Nightlord?”

“Simply giving the Crown Prince what is rightfully his,” Seth replied, standing up to retrieve a flat velvet box. She walked over to Abel and held it out to him as she opened it to reveal a platinum diadem studded with sapphires. “Will you accept the title and position I have kept for you since I created the Empire?”

“I don't understand,” Abel said, looking at Seth with a confused expression. She wanted him to be the Crown Prince? But he didn't know the first thing about running a government. Hells, he was barely getting the chance to run a club! “I don't know anything about running your Empire.”

Seth waved a hand. “Don't worry about it. The position isn't really something that requires you to be here unless I have to go on an extended trip and Mira can't fill in, but I created it so that way you always had a place in my life.”

A blush stained Abel's cheeks, and he bent to kiss Seth's forehead. “I would be honored to accept the position of Crown Prince and once more become a member of your family.”

“Silly Abel. You've always been a part of my family,” Seth stated, removing the diadem and putting it on his head. The weight was strange, but Abel had a feeling he would adjust to it all too soon. He really hoped that she didn't take a long trip and leave him in charge. He was afraid that he would screw something up. Seth grinned and pushed him down next to Leon on the couch before she popped herself down onto his lap. “So, as you are the Crown Prince, you are entitled to the account that I created for him. It's really just a place to put a steady allowance. I was going to use it to tempt you to the Empire, but I think using the money to open your club would be a much better use for it.”

That got a slight frown from Abel. “Just how much is in this account that you are planning to turn over to me?”

When she told him, his mouth dropped open in shock. A small fraction of that amount would be all he needed to open the club, but with the full thing, he could get everything done the way he wanted it right down to the decor for the apartments. The weight that had settled on his shoulders when he had found out how much things were going to cost slowly lifted, even as a concern wrinkled his brow. “Shouldn't that money be used for the Empire? After all, I'm going to be building this in Rome, not the Empire, which would mean that money will be leaving your country and helping out another one.”

Seth shook her head. “This money has been out of circulation for a long time, and the fact that you are hiring Methuselah for your club will help out once I put a good spin on it.” She grinned and kissed his cheek. “Build your dream, Abel, and I expect weekly calls to let me know how everything is going. Or else I'm going to show up at your doorstep without warning you to get my answers.”

softly laughing, Abel wrapped his arms around Seth and hugged her. That was a deal that he could easily honor. He didn't care if the Crown prince position and the account was hours old or centuries. Seth was giving him the money to build his club and only asking for phone calls in return. That was a deal he could live with.


	9. Temptation Be Thy Name 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some angst in this chapter.

The large room was dim, allowing the hulking bodyguards their anonymity as the dozen men sat around the table. Each one was easily near his sixth decade, many having aged gracefully, but each one very powerful and ruthless when it came to certain business dealings. Expensive suits were tailor made to fit the large forms they encased as each man looked around, waiting for another to start.

“Why have I been called here?” asked Don Ferdinando De Luca, his voice filled with a smoker’s gravel even as he gestured with a cigar clenched between two fingers. “I am a very busy man, so I would appreciate it if we could get down to business.”

“You mean you did not call us?” Don Boris Romano inquired, a note of disbelief in his voice. The youngest in his fifth decade, he was no less ruthless than any of his compatriots in the room. “Usually when there is a problem between the families, you are the first to call such a meeting.”

“I called this meeting,” a new voice announced, and everyone looked towards the door as a slender woman with large golden curls walked in with a firm stride. At her shoulder was a man with short brown hair and no expression on his face. Both were dressed in clothes befitting their station, but everyone here knew who they truly were. Instantly, all the men rose to their feet out of respect as one of the men relinquished his seat to the young lady. She gracefully took the seat with a nod of thanks before waving the men back to their own seats, her bodyguard taking up a place just behind the chair.

“Your Eminence, why did you call us?” Don Ferdinando inquired once everyone was settled. “We usually only speak with you should a situation arise that requires us to work with the Church.”

Cardinal Catarina Sforza pulled a picture out of her handbag and looked at the men. “My business today involves one of you only. Who is blocking the construction and opening of the private club known as Temptations?”

Don Antonio Moretti shrugged his shoulder. “My nephew informed me that the old man behind that club would not toe the line and pay for opening a club in the area my family controls.” He looked at her, curious. “What is your interest in such a thing, Your Eminence?”

An amused smile curled Catarina’s lips. “Because, this is the so called ‘old man’ of Temptations,” she drawled, sliding a picture down to Don Antonio. He scooped it up and blinked, his jaw dropping some. The picture was of her and Abel, both in their clergy uniforms, smiling at the camera while the Vatican fountain flowed behind them. “Abel Nightroad, formerly of the Department of Foreign Affairs has given up much in his life. When I first met him, I was a girl of ten, having just seen my family slaughtered by Methuselah assassins. He approached me, covered in the blood of those same assassins, and offered me his help and protection. For twenty years, he stood by my side, becoming my best friend, my guardian, and my confidant when things were too rough.”

“But why would a priest, even a former one, want to open a club like Temptations?” sputtered Don Boris, his eyes riveted to the picture as Don Antonio passed it around to the other Dons.

“Temptations will be more than a club, gentlemen,” Catarina announced, all humor draining from her face. “It will also be a sanctuary for those who need it, a second chance for those that require it, and a place where even the misfits of society will be welcomed to start anew.” She nodded to the picture. “This is his dream, the only one he has had for himself that is solely his, and I will do everything in my power to ensure it comes true.”

Don Giacomo Rossi stared down at the picture. “A sanctuary for whom?” His voice was soft but there was something in his face, some emotion, that didn’t have a name.

Catarina looked at them. “If you must know, those that are different through no fault of their own. I know each of you have people with specific talents in your families that you take care of and use in your business dealings, but many are not that lucky. This would be a sanctuary for them, allowing them to work and earn an honest living without the fear of being killed or thrown out because they were different.”

“He is different too, is he not?” Don Giacomo looked at Catarina, but she simply raised her brow back at the Don, getting a chuckle. “I had wondered where I had seen him before, Your Eminence, but I remember now. He brought my Rosa home after she had been captured by a gang of Methuselah wanting to cut into my territory. She swore he was an angel, wings and all, but we had thought she had been slightly hysterical.” He looked at Catarina with a small smile. “She even drew a picture of her Guardian Angel and hung it next to her bed so she would always be safe.”

“Abel’s story is just that, his. I will not betray his confidence by repeating what he told me without his consent,” Catarina stated, her voice firm.”But this is a man who sent his construction crew away instead of allowing their families to be threatened. Instead, he works from sun up to sunset and often beyond trying to build a club even though he has no knowledge of construction at all. This is a man who would work himself to death instead of risk a single person to a well placed bullet.” Her voice softened. “This is the man who promised to see my dreams come true while sacrificing his own. He has asked for nothing and given everything. For him, I would do whatever you asked to see his dream come true.”

A fist was firmly placed on the table, getting everyone’s attention focused on Don Giacomo. “Temptations and its owner will be under my protection,” he announced, his voice firm and unyielding. His eyes were even more hard when he looked at Moretti. “This is not negotiable, Moretti. I owe this man for returning my Rosa unharmed and asking nothing in return, not even a glass of water to wet his throat.” A thick finger pointed at the other don. “You will reign in your nephew and your family and leave Father Abel Nightroad and Temptations alone.”

Don Antonio inclined his head. “It will be done. If any question, I will deal with it. If any disobey the order to leave Temptations alone, inform me at once, and I will deal with the matter personally.”

Don Giacomo nodded in agreement before smiling at Catarina. “Your friend’s club is in good hands, Your Eminence, and I will see to it personally that the work crew is there bright and early as he is given time off to rest.”

Tears of gratitude were in Catarina’s eyes as she thanked the Don for his willingness to help Abel. Everyone in the room knew that the details of this meeting would not extend beyond these four walls, and none would speak of this meeting again unless it became necessary some time in the future.

That was the Gentlemen’s Agreement to any of their meetings. Even the unusual ones.

@@@

The sound of a solitary hammer echoed through the early morning air as it had for several days, and many who heard the sound felt their hearts go out to the worker. Abel continued hammering boards together, his hair ratty and his clothes torn and sweat stained. Even his skin was filthy with dust and dirt, but he didn’t have the time or the energy to take a shower. He barely allowed himself time to eat, almost afraid what would happen to what little he had managed to build by himself. He had no illusions that the Moretti Family wouldn’t destroy what little progress he had managed by himself. He had even taken to sleeping on the construction site in an effort to keep further vandalism nonexistent.

A new sound intruded on the pounding of the hammer, and Abel looked up as a long dark car pulled to a stop in front of his property. He felt his heart sink but a determination straightened his back. It was probably the young man coming to see if Abel had changed his mind, but he was not going to give it. It would be only a matter of time before the family controlled Abel’s club if he did, and Abel was not going to do that to his dream. He blinked as trucks pulled up behind the car, and dozens of men bearing tools started pouring out before respectfully lining up, apparently awaiting orders. They looked like construction workers, but why were they here? Unless this was a new tactic by the young man, offering his crew in exchange for some favors later? Slowly, Abel pushed himself to his feet, turning to face the car as the driver emerged to open the back door. He was not going to let *any* family push him around or try to steal his dream away because he wouldn’t bend to them.

His blink of surprise was almost audible as an older man emerged from the car in a neat suit that was definitely tailor made. There was something familiar about the man’s face, but Abel was tired enough that he was having trouble thinking straight. Gods, the man could have been the governor of Rome and Abel wouldn’t have recognized him in his current state. He watched as the man walked towards him with a firm step, and he managed to drag up enough energy to plaster a small smile on his face as he waited for the man to speak.

“Father Nightroad, allow me to introduce myself,” the man began when he was close enough. “I am Giacomo Rossi, and I heard about your troubles here. I wish to offer the services of my construction company and men to finish the wonderful job you have started.”

It took a few moments before Abel could place the name. Giacomo Rossi, head of the Rossi Family, and one whose territory was not on this side of Rome. “Excuse me, sir, but why are you here? Do you wish control of my club as well? And won’t you being here cause problems with the Moretti Family?”

A smile appeared on Rossi’s face. “Antonio and I have come to an agreement about you and your club, Father Nightroad,” he explained. “You and your club are under my protection, no strings attached, and I wish nothing but to see your dream come true.”

“Why?” Abel’s smile slid into a puzzled frown. “What do you want from me for this?”

“You brought my little Rosa home, safe and sound,” Rossi explained, his smile fading into a look of seriousness. “And you asked for nothing in return, not even a glass of water. Allow me this small service for the huge debt my family owes you.”

A tired chuckle slipped out of Abel. “There is no debt for returning a child to her family,” he protested even as his eyes drifted longingly towards the workers who were still waiting for orders. He wanted their help, wanted to see his club standing proudly and waiting for the first visitor, but he was unsure about accepting help from the Rossi Family.

“Then allow me to repay the debt my family has been carrying since Armageddon,” Rossi murmured, his voice soft. Abel’s eyes jerked back to him, a startled sound in his throat even as he tensed, too tired to hide his actions. Rossi smiled and offered a hand. “Come. I offer the hospitality of my home for you to rest, knowing your dream is in good hands.”

“No hooks?” Abel whispered, desperately hoping at this point. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten a decent night’s rest, and he knew he looked a fright. Probably stank to High Heaven as well.

Rossi shook his head. “I swear on the Bible and my mother’s grave that your dream will remain yours, free and clear, and that I only offer help as you helped my family.”

Nodding even as he slumped with relief, Abel staggered over to the small cot he had set up in a corner and grabbed the trunk placed there. He ignored sore muscles as they protested him picking up the trunk, and he walked back to Rossi. “I accept your hospitality, sir.”

Rossi nodded and motioned to the river who opened the door. “A hot shower and a filling meal await, Father Nightroad.”

“I’m not really a priest any more, sir,” Abel stated as they climbed into the car. There was enough room for the trunk to sit on the floor between the seats, and Abel sat on the jump seat, facing Rossi.

“Just because you do not wear the vestments does not mean you are no less of a priest, Mr. Nightroad,” Rossi remarked with a smile before tapping his own chest. “You carry the heart of a priest, or you would not have sent your workers away when threatened to protect them.”

A faint blush stained Abel’s cheeks, and he ducked his head, allowing his tangled hair to fall forward, hiding his face from view. A thought poked him, and he nervously licked his lips. “What did you mean by a debt your family has carried since Armageddon?”

Rossi sat back and folded his hands in his lap. “My distant ancestor was Sergeant Michael Rossi. He was a guard on the Space Station Freedom during Armageddon, and he saw many things that made him wonder about the sanity of humanity. Including the creation of four beings.” Abel stiffened, looking at the don with a wary expression and every muscle tense. “He watched the Crusniks be treated as little less than animals, and even though he tried to find ways to help them, it never seemed to work. Finally, three of them revolted and left the humans for the vampires. Not willing to fight against them, my ancestor left the military during the first available mission, and he swore that he would find ways to help the Crusniks whenever he could.”

“That doesn’t explain your debt,” Abel remarked, a bit surprised at how calm his voice was when he was quietly shaking in a mix of fear and exhaustion. He was finally reaching the end of his endurance, and he didn’t know how much longer he could go before collapsing. But he didn’t know if it was safe for him to collapse, not with the head of the Rossi Family announcing that he knew Abel was over nine hundred years old. After all, it wouldn’t be that hard to auction Abel off as a living weapon or steal his blood in an attempt to recreate the Crusniks.

“My ancestor tried to assist the Crusniks that had run, but he couldn’t since none of the vampires would trust him being a human,” Rossi explained. “When Armageddon ended, he had been unable to help them at all, leaving his vow unfulfilled. Since that day, the story of the Crusniks and my ancestor’s promise has been passed down through the family from father to son, in the hopes that one of us might be able to help the Crusniks, or if they didn’t survive, their descendants.”

Clutching his shaking hands together in his lap, Abel stared at the floor of the car, his emotions in such a turbulent state that he couldn’t think clearly. He wanted to run far away, but he couldn’t, not when Rossi had promised to help him open the club. Plus, he didn’t believe he would get very far in the state he was in. His breath hitched on a sob of frustration, and he closed his eyes, trying to reign his emotions in long enough to *think*.

Gentle hands urged him to lay down, and Abel made a small noise as he looked up at Rossi to find a gentle smile on the old human’s face. “Rest, Father Nightroad, and know you are in the hands of allies who will not do you harm. We can talk more when your head is clear.”

He didn’t want to rest, but his body has other ideas. With a soft noise of denial, Abel’s eyes shut as his exhaustion swept over him, and he never felt his head hit the seat.

@@@

Giacomo looked down at the exhausted young man and could only marvel at his strength. He knew he would have either given in or given up long before reaching this state, but Abel Nightroad was still going some how. Never had he seen someone work so hard for a dream to come true and still do their best to keep those around them safe. Well, his family owed a debt to Abel Nightroad both from Armageddon and, most importantly, for bringing his little Rosa home again, safe and sound. If Abel had wished for the moon, then Giacomo Rossi would have done his best to bring it to the man.

“Frankie, bring his trunk to the green guest room. Ray, carry him up there,” he ordered once the car had stopped and he had emerged to stare at the two large men. Giacomo turned to look at the housekeeper who was waiting on the front steps. “Run a bath before fetching some sleeping clothes for him. Then let my wife know that we will be hosting a guest for the foreseeable future.” She dropped a quick curtsy before spinning and hurrying back into the house with Frankie lugging the trunk after her. Ray gently scooped Abel up, but the silver haired man didn’t even twitch, showing just how exhausted he truly was. Giacomo lead the way, knowing his guards would be less twitchy once he was inside, and he bent down to scoop up the little girl who ran to him, her pigtails bouncing as she giggled.

“Good morning, my rose,” Giacomo greeted, shifting Rosa to one hip as Ray moved past him and headed for the stairs.

Rosa stared after him, her eyes wide. “Granpa, why’s my angel so dirty?”

“Because he’s been working very hard and hasn’t been taking care of himself,” Giacomo replied, his voice soft. “I offered to help him so he wouldn’t have to work this hard and gave him time off to rest.”

She frowned at her grandfather. “Why has he been working so hard?” she demanded. “Who’s being mean to what’s his?”

Unable to help it, Giacomo laughed. Out of the mouths of babes indeed. “Do not worry, cara, the one being mean won’t be anymore. We came to an agreement, and your angel and his dream is safe.”

“What’s his dream, Granpa?” Rosa asked, her irritation forgotten in the face of Giacomo’s promise and new information about her angel.

A smile appeared on the old man’s face. “His dream is to have a very special club where people like your cousin Sophia can work without being afraid because they don’t have anyone to watch over them.”

She smiled. “That’s a very good dream,” she stated. “He needs some happy pictures to wake up to.”

“Yes he does. He has had a very hard few weeks. Why don’t you go draw him some pretty pictures with some apple trees,” Giacomo suggested, putting her on the ground. “He likes apples.” Rosa grinned and nodded before scampering off to find her crayons and paper.

Reaching up, Giacomo loosened his tie as he started up the stairs. He thought Abel would sleep much better if cleaned, and he didn’t trust anyone well enough to do the job. He saw Ray standing in the center of the room, hesitating, as he glanced between the bed and the bath. “Put him next to the bath, Ray. I will clean him and call you to put him in bed.”

Ray nodded and left after following those directions. Giacomo shook his head at the state of Abel’s clothes before carefully removing them. He would have one of the maids clean them and do her best to repair them for Abel. He carefully eased Abel into the water after shrugging out of his shirts and jacket and started washing the grime from pale skin. There was a soft noise behind him, and he looked into the mirror to find his wife standing there with an expectant look on her face.

“Wash and comb his hair, Maria?” Giacomo requested. “You’re better with long hair than I.”

“Only if you tell me who this is,” she replied, walking over and rolling her sleeves up. She started scrubbing the dirt out of silver hair as Giacomo went back to washing skin clean.

“This is Father Abel Nightroad.” That got a startled noise from her, and Maria looked at her husband in stunned surprise. “He is the owner of Temptations, a club he is trying to build. Only Moretti’s nephew took an exception to a new club being built in their territory and went to extract a price.” He shook his head, rinsing the soap off to leave clean skin behind. “Father Nightroad wouldn’t bend, not on his dream. So, he sent the work crew away to protect them and has been working himself to exhaustion trying to build his club even though he has no knowledge of construction.”

Maria looked down at Abel before she washed the shampoo from his hair. “He will be starving when he wakes up,” she murmured, reaching for a comb to ease the tangles out. “I will have Carlo ready to create a feast for him.” She looked at him. “How did you find out about his club?”

Giacomo smiled, a touch wistful. “A beautiful cardinal begged us to help him, and you know how I am with the young ladies. How could I refuse such a heartfelt plea?”

She shook her head but there was a smile on her face. “Let’s put him to bed,” she murmured, squeezing water out of the long silver locks before quickly pleating them into a braid. “I’ll open the window to get some fresh air while he rests.”

“Send Ray in to carry him to bed,” Giacomo requested, lifting Abel out of the water and onto dry towels. Maria nodded and slipped out of the room as he dried the sleeping man before slipping a pair of sleeping pants on him. Ray entered at that moment, and Giacomo nodded, gesturing the large man closer. It was the work of seconds to get Abel snuggled under the covers, and they left him there with an open window bringing fresh air.

“That poor, sweet caro,” murmured Maria when they were downstairs in the sitting room. She gracefully sat on the couch as Giacomo stood near the window, rebuttoning his shirt. “Moretti has no problems with you stepping in to take care of the boy?”

He shook his head, slipping his tie back on. “None. He has ceded Temptations and Father Nightroad to me. I promised Father Nightroad on the Bible that I would help him build his club and ask nothing in return.” He chuckled. “Perhaps membership, but nothing that would remove control of the club from him.”

Maria clucked her tongue. “I do not believe you will need some of the features of that club, if what the gossip says is true about it. Other features, you could definitely use to your advantage.”

“I will talk more with Father Nightroad when he has rested. I would like to hear his plans for the club beyond what Cardinal Sforza told us,” Giacomo mused with a grin to his wife. “It would be amusing to enjoy a pleasant evening there while the children play.”

She laughed. “I will have to be careful to not let you wander too far,” she teased. “Unless I can bring a pretty young thing home with me?”

Giacomo looked at her in mock horror as her laughter filled the air again. God, he loved his wife. No one else had her sense of humor.

@@@

With a smirk, Lorenzo Moretti sauntered through the halls of his uncle’s home. He had seen that old bastard just the other day at his so-called club, filthy and trying to pound a few pieces of wood together. Ha! That bastard would never get his club up, not at the pace he was going. Lorenzo would head back after his meeting with his uncle and offer to help the old bastard again. Maybe this time, his offer would be accepted and the family would gain a nice club as part of their businesses.

“You wished to see me, sir?” he asked politely as he was shown into his uncle’s office. Don Antonio Moretti was seated behind his desk with a single photograph placed before him, and Lorenzo hid the sneer that wanted to appear on his face. Weak old man. Someday soon, the title of Don would be his since Uncle Tony didn’t have any children. Everyone knew Lorenzo was going to inherit his uncle’s position and power, and he reveled in that knowledge.

“Do you know what I hate most in the world, my boy?” Uncle Tony asked, his voice deceptively soft. “Being made a fool of in front of the other Dons.”

Lorenzo didn’t see the bodyguard, but he was quite aware of the fist that was suddenly driven into his stomach. Gasping for air, Lorenzo fell to the floor, curled around his aching belly only to be yanked upright by that same large fist. He gritted his teeth even as his stomach protested the recent violence, but he knew he had to ignore the pain or they’d use that against him. “How did I do that, sir?”

It was apparent from the blow that Lorenzo had done something to displease his uncle, but as his mind race to find an answer before Uncle Tony announced it, the only thing he could think of was that old bastard and his club. Had he not gotten it soon enough for his uncle? He watched as his uncle turned the picture around to show Lorenzo, and it was all he could do to not gape at it. It was the old bastard in priest’s robes sitting next to a hot chick dressed like a cardinal. Was it for Halloween?

“You will not bother Father Nightroad nor his club again,” Uncle Tony stated, his voice soft but carrying a promised threat in its tone. “I have ceded both to Don Rossi at his request. Any trouble created for Father Nightroad and his club by you, and I will ensure you do not cause *any* trouble again. Right before making Alessandra my heir instead of you.”

“But she’s a *girl*!” Lorenzo exclaimed in outrage. “The family will never follow her!” It was unthinkable that his cousin would inherit what was rightfully his, but he didn’t believe he had any problem there. The families were old fashioned, and none would follow a female head, no matter what Uncle Tony threatened.

Uncle Tony smirked. “It has been done before, and the family has been made stronger through their leadership.” The smirk fell from his face as he stared at Lorenzo. “This is your only warning, Lorenzo. Do not fuck this up. You’re as expendable as anyone in this Family.”

Lorenzo fumed on his way back to his suite, hands clenched in anger. How *dare* his uncle speak to him like that! He was going to inherit the family power, not his cousin. He had the backing of others in the family because they knew he was the next head. Besides, what kind of *priest* would open a sex club?

He paused back in his rooms, turning that over in his head. No priest would ever open a club like Temptations because it would go against the vows of celibacy and poverty. So that meant that whomever this Abel Nightroad was, he wasn’t a priest, and someone was pulling a fast one over on Uncle Tony with that picture of Nightroad and the skirt dressed as a cardinal. Probably Rossi if the old man had ceded the club to them at their insistence.

Not an idiot, despite what Uncle Tony might think at the moment, Lorenzo knew he would have to plan this carefully. If it was traced back to him, then Uncle Tony would have to address the problem. However, if he was able to cause trouble for the club in a way that it *couldn’t* be traced back to him or the Moretti family, Uncle Tony would have to admit that he was wrong about Lorenzo and his personal power would be secured without anyone thinking about putting someone else in the line of succession.

Smirking, he moved over to his desk and started planning the best way to show that silver haired bastard and his bitch that the smart people don’t mess with Lorenzo Moretti. Not if they didn’t want serious problems in their lives.

@@@

For the second time that day, a long black car pulled to a stop in front of the now busy construction site with trucks full of people and supplies stopping behind it. This time, it was a teenager with a commanding air about her that emerged from the car, and the foreman, Ricardo Beletini, hurried over to her as the men lined up, waiting for instructions. Beletini, long use to dealing with the various people that made up the Rossi family, knew that there was more to this teenager than first met the eye. “Excuse me, miss, but this is a private site.”

Emerald eyes met his, and he swallowed at the power they contained. “Where is Abel Nightroad, and what are you doing here?”

“Mr. Nightroad is a guest of our patron, Mr. Giacomo Rossi, and we have been charged with building Mr. Nightroad's club,” the foreman answered proudly. He knew Mr. Rossi had more than just this one construction crew, but he was glad his had been chosen for this job. Many of the men on his crew had been touched by the gentle priest in one way or knew someone who had. They *all* knew how sweet little Rosa Rossi had been kidnapped by a group of punks trying to cut into the Family business and that Father Nightroad had brought her back, safe and unharmed. She was a little angel who hadn't deserved to be threatened like that by a group of punks with more teeth than brains. Of course, Beletini had also heard through the construction grapevine how Nightroad had sent his workers away when one of the other families had taken an interest in his club instead of letting them stay and possibly become targets themselves.

“I will speak to your patron,” the girl stated, her voice still carrying that commanding note. “I want to know exactly why Don Rossi is interested in the Eternal Mother's tovarosh.”

“If you would mind waiting in the trailer, miss, I will call him,” Beletini assured her, wanting to get her out of sight before something happened because his men were too busy staring at her to pay attention to their work. She inclined her head before turning to say something to a man that had approached while they had been talking. The man inclined his head before going over to the workers standing there and issuing orders and Beletini escorted the teenager to the trailer sitting off to one side of the construction site. The sounds of work slowed down as the rumors started in their wake, and Beletini knew that it would only be a matter of minutes before the entire site knew that the Empress Augusta Vradica not only considered Father Nightroad her tovarosh, but also had sent men to help him build his dream.

There was a man sitting in the visitor's chair that rose as they entered, and he looked at the teenager in curiosity but didn't seem to recognize her. Which only seemed fair because Beletini didn't recognize the man. He looked like one of his workers, but Beletini had never seen the man before in his life. “Can I help you?”

The man smiled but nervously twisted his hat in his hands. “Yes, at least I hope so.” He licked his lips before continuing. “My company was originally hired by Mr. Nightroad to build his club, but when the Moretti threatened the site, he paid us for a month's of work that we didn't complete before sending us home. Many of my men, including those with families, want to return to their original job and help Mr. Nightroad see his dream come true.” He shrugged. “How can fathers look their children in the eyes if they knew that Mr. Nightroad was doing everything he could to protect us and we were doing nothing to help him in return?”

A thoughtful sound came from the young teenager. “With three crews working, the club would be open even quicker,” she mused when the two men looked at her. “And the men could even work around the clock in three shifts.” She brushed the thought aside with a flick of her had. “But that can be decided when Mr. Rossi arrives.”

Beletini recognized an order when he heard it, and he bowed to her, gesturing to the other chair for her to settle herself comfortably. “May I give Mr. Rossi your name, my lady?”

An amused smile curled her lips as she settled in the chair as if sitting on a throne instead of a simple office chair. “Seth Nightlord, emissary for the Empress.”

Nodding, Beletini swallowed before moving to the desk he claimed as his own and called a very familiar number. He quietly spoke with the person on the other end, knowing a message would be given to Mr. Rossi, and he was informed that Mr. Rossi would be at the site in a matter of minutes. He turned back to the two people to find them quietly talking about the club and what it was suppose to be. The fact that the man was talking excitedly and waving his arms around as he spoke meant that they had found a common ground that they both could enjoy. The fact that it was Father Nightroad's dream just made it all that much better in Beletini's opinion.

“Mr. Rossi is on his way,” Beletini stated, focusing on the two of them with a small smile. “If you will excuse me, I must return to my job. May I ask that you remain here for safety reasons?”

Nightlord inclined her head, accepting that request while the man nodded as well. Beletini bowed to the lady before making his escape. He had not been lying when he had said he had to resume his duties, but he also wanted to greet Mr. Rossi and let him know what was waiting for him in the trailer. He had not had much of a chance to warn Mr. Rossi who was there due to the people in question being in the trailer itself and listening to at least his half of the conversation. The men were back working again, but there was still talk going around as everyone tried to speculate on why the Empress had sent a teenager as an emissary.

It was only about ten minutes later when Mr. Rossi's car pulled up, and he got out, looking around. Beletini hurried over to him, and after a small bow and offer of a hard hat, he quietly but quickly spoke to the older man, telling him about the young girl and the other construction manager that was waiting for him in the trailer. Mr. Rossi nodded as he walked next to Beletini before he gestured for the man to return to his duties. Beletini nodded and offered the man a small smile before heading back to his job.

@@@

Seth was enjoying the chance to talk about Abel's club with Michael Magella. He had a lot of good ideas and she knew she would be using his company should she ever need any construction done in Rome. She turned towards the door as the sound of footsteps reached her ears, and the door opened to allow an older gentleman to enter. He was large, but her trained eye could tell that it was from muscle instead of fat. She rose to her feet, smoothing the slight wrinkle out of her slacks with a casual brush of her hand as she sensed Magella rise to his feet as well. She was about to greet the man who must be Giacomo Rossi when Rossi suddenly knelt at her feet, his head bowed.

“It is a true honor to greet the Empress' personal emissary,” Rossi announced, not looking up at her. That got a surprised raise of her brow. Seth wasn't use to such reverence outside of the Empire.

“It is a pleasure to greet you as well, Mr. Rossi,” Seth stated in a polite tone. “Shall we sit and discuss business with Mr. Magella?”

“Of course,” Rossi stated, pulling over a chair to sit with them. She noticed that he didn't sit until after she had resumed her seat, and she had to wonder about the old world manners. Not that she minded being treated with respect, but it was strange for a human to treat her like that after they found out she was representing the Empress. Most of the time, she was given small slights by humans instead of the pleasant etiquette and old world manners that Rossi was displaying.

“Miss Nightlord had a suggestion that with three crews, they could work around the clock in three shifts and that would help build the club much faster,” Magella remarked. “I suggest the shifts be from six to two, two to ten, and ten to six, giving each of them an eight hour day.”

Rossi frowned as he sat back in his seat, but it was a thoughtful frown instead of one of disapproval. “Then how will we decide who gets what shift?”

“My people will take the ten to six,” Seth stated with a slight shrug. “As it is past 2pm, Mr. Rossi's crew can continue working until mine comes on, and then come six in the morning, Mr. Magella's crew can start their work.” The two men nodded in agreement to her words, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Really it was the easiest way to divide the workday since she had Methuselah on her crew and by working at night, they would not be in danger of the sun.

Magella rose to his feet. “Then I will leave to let your discussions while I go inform my men of the arrangement.” He bowed to both of them before leaving the trailer.


	10. Temptation Be Thy Name 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Temptations

Humming softly, Abel stretched and moaned in relief as sore muscles relaxed. A frown crossed his face as he realized he was snuggled under very comfortable sheets and the faint rustling of curtains reached his ears. He was trying to figure out where he was when the memories from before came rushing forward. Opening his eyes, Abel slowly sat up and looked around, blinking in surprise at the sight of Seth stretched out on a nearby couch, asleep. When had she arrived and why was she here instead of the Empire?

He slowly slid out of bed and stared at himself in confusion. He was clean and wearing a pair of sleeping pants he was very sure he didn't own simply because he didn't remember ever buying a pair of silk pants. Plus his hair was braided, and he rarely ever braided his hair as it was normally too much effort to braid all of it. But he appreciated the consideration that the unknown person had taken with his hair.

“Seth,” he softly called from where he was standing. He didn't want to wake her up with a touch because he didn't know if she still came up swinging or if she had trained that reflex out of herself. She woke with a start, sitting up and looking around before she relaxed. Abel chuckled. “Morning sleepy head.”

“You're one to talk,” Seth drawled around a yawn as she stretched. “You've been asleep for two days. I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to wake up.” She stood up and walked over to him, her eyes running over his body in a clinical way. “You haven't been eating nearly enough, you've been working yourself too hard, and you should have asked for help instead of trying to do everything yourself.”

“It's my dream,' Abel explained with a small shrug. “I couldn't ask someone else to risk their life for it. Especially since they have families.”

She huffed and lightly punched him in the arm. “What about me? You're *my* family, and I’d be devastated if anything happened to you.” She put her fists on her hips. “Besides, some petty mafioso doesn't scare me.”

Abel sighed and pulled her into a hug. “I'm sorry. I just wanted to do this mostly on my own, like how you created the Empire.”

She snorted and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Idiot. Well, now you're going to have to accept help 'cause Rossi's crew, the one you originally hired, and my crew have been working around the clock to build your club.”

Part of him wanted to protest, but instead he sighed again and shook his head. There was no talking Seth out of anything when she was this stubborn. “What do you think of Rossi?”

“He's telling the truth,” Seth stated, her voice firm. “He showed me pictures of his ancestor and had the right sort of heirlooms for the man to have been part of the military. Even had the ID chip embedded in the dogtags that my old sensor could read.” She smirked. “And you know how hard it is to duplicate those or even get a replacement.'

That got a chuckle from Abel as he clearly remembered one scientist's rant when they had lost their tags. It had gone on for several minutes as he swore in three languages without repeating himself. He slipped out of Seth's arms and moved to his trunk, kneeling down in front of it. “I'm not sure how I'm going to pay for three construction crews, and any security guards to keep Moretti off the site as well.”

Seth snorted. “What makes you think you have to pay for the other two crews?” she demanded, and Abel looked up at her to find a grin on her face. “I know I'm paying the salaries for my crew, and considering the debt that Mr. Rossi feels he owes you, he probably won't charge you for his crew either.” Her grin turned into a smirk. “You have people who are going to help you make this dream a reality, Abel. Get use to it.”

“All right. I know when I'm defeated by logic,” he agreed, shaking his head. “I probably have several phone calls waiting on me back at the rented office, and Lord only knows how many requests for jobs slid under the door. I should get dressed and get started now that the construction part of the job is being handled.” He opened his trunk, hoping to get something to wear, only to suddenly close it again, a bright blush on his cheeks. “Um, I apparently don't have any clean clothes.” not if the smell from his trunk was any indication.

Snickering, Seth moved over to behind the couch and pulled out a suitcase before she brought it over to him. “I brought these for you because they were going to be a bribe into getting you to take some time off.”

He frowned in confusion before opening it to find new clothes inside. A soft chuckle slipped out of him as he looked over at her. “You didn't have to bribe me with clothes, you know.”

“Yes I did, and I'm almost tempted to put one of my Methuselah on your staff just to keep an eye on you,” Seth threatened, frowning at him. “Or you might work yourself to death one of these days.”

Abel was about to refuse outright when a thought occurred to him. “Perhaps we might reach a compromise on that, Seth,” he offered and smiled when she looked at him in surprise. “I have a lot of people I need to hire for the club, and some of those are security. I was planning on hiring mostly Methuselah for those positions, but I'm going to need someone to train them to work together. I also have more applications than I have positions for, so if the person you can send to train them works out, I would be amiable to starting a security company that also provides bodyguards for a price.”

Seth hummed, tilting her head. “That would be an interesting thing to do, and it would give me an excuse to put a body guard on you, mister,” she remarked. “I have an elite guard who had to retire due to an almost crippling injury. He doesn't mind working with humans either, so that could provide you with the ability to offer either Methuselah or human bodyguards if someone has a preference. We can work on the contract that will create Nightlords, Incorporated which will be the parent company of the security firm plus whatever other businesses you wish to start.”

“Temptations will remain separate from this company,” Abel stated, looking at her. “I'm not too picky about what other businesses that you want to add to this new company, but Temptations will always remain separate.”

“That's agreeable,” she agreed with a nod of her head. “What do you plan to do if any of the families want to cut in?”

“It would depend on why they want in,” he confess with a shrug. “If they want in as honest businessmen, then that would be all right. But if they want in to hide things, that won't be allowed.”

Seth nodded as well. “Sounds like a plan to me.” She grinned. “Should I be getting you some new notebooks to put ideas in for Nightlords, Inc?”

He snorted and shook his head as he knelt next to the trunk and dug out his messenger bag with all of his personal things in it, doing his best to ignore the reek of filthy clothes. “That will be something that we will work together on,” he stated, his voice firm on that. “Or I'll get so busy with the club that I'll forget all about it.”

“So, we either hire or train someone to run Nightlords, Inc while you run your club and I run my Empire,” Seth remarked with a grin. “Of course, they'll have us watching over their shoulder so if they screw up on purpose, then well catch them.”

Abel nodded as he pulled on the small ankle boots, finishing his outfit. The clothes Seth had bought for him fit perfectly with the faded jeans practically clinging to his legs while the green silk shirt seemed to float around him as he moved. “How long are you going to be here?”

He really hoped she had time for a proper visit because he wanted to spend time with her, visiting as well as putting together this idea for Nightlords, Inc. Of course, he was going to have to rent another hotel room until his apartment was finished at the club.

@@@

Lorenzo resisted the urge to sneer as he looked around the dingy club that wasn't even a step above a dive. People writhed on the dance floor, desperate in their hunger and need to lose themselves in any vice they could find, drugs, sex, alcohol, or all the above. Most of the women were dressed as if they rented their time by the hour with makeup so thickly applied as to look as if a trowel had been used in its application. He snorted and tried not to think about the stains that would be on his relatively cheap clothes when he was done with his business here. A bottle of the cheapest wine they offered sat on the table, one glass poured and ready for whomever was brave enough to drink it. Lorenzo didn't have any plans about drinking anything in this place, not knowing what extras were added to the bottles.

A shadow fell over the table, and Lorenzo didn't look up as a Methuselah slid into the open seat at the table. “You're late.”

The Methuselah snorted, shaking his head. “You're early,” he drawled before swiping the glass. “What's the job?”

“An old man needs to have an accident,” Lorenzo drawled, sitting back in his chair.

“And you can't do it yourself?” scoffed the Methuselah, sipping the wine before making a face at the glass. “Cheap bastard. Can't even get the good wine. Who do you need bumped off?”

“Some bastard that's pulling a fast one on the Don,” stated the young man, managing to keep the sneer out of his voice. “Has the Don convinced that he's a Vatican priest.” He snorted, shaking his head in disgust. “But what sort of *priest* would open a club like Temptations?”

The cheap wine was sprayed across the table, and Lorenzo glared at the coughing Methuselah. He didn't know what the man's problem was, but his statements weren't that surprising. Finally, the Methuselah looked at him with narrow eyes and a calculating gaze. “You want me to take out Abel Nightroad?”

Lorenzo's own eyes narrowed in suspicion before he turned his attention back to the club. “Yes. You'll be paid your normal fee...”

“No.”

His head whipped around and he frowned at the Methuselah. “What?” Did the man want more money?

“No. I will not kill, maim, nor injure Abel Nightroad. Not for any price,” the Methuselah stated, folding his arms and sitting back in his chair.

“Why the fuck not? He's just a man!” protested Lorenzo, his temper rising. He had thought his contact had more brains than to be taken in by this con. Apparently, this Nightroad bastard was better than Lorenzo thought if there were plenty of people taken in by the idea that he was a priest.

“The *former* Vatican priest, Abel Nightroad, is so well connected that when he sneezes, half the known world says 'Bless you',” drawled the Methuselah, rising to his feet. “The Eternal Mother sent workers to help build his club, and there are many in Rome who believe he is a sort of Guardian Angel. No, Mr. Moretti, you will not find anyone willing to move against him for any amount of money.”

Lorenzo could only stare in disbelief as the Methuselah turned and slipped into the crowd, leaving him sitting at a table wet with cheap wine.

@@@

Despite what many people might have thought about him, Michael Archangel was no fool. Nor was he stupid despite the fact he had never finished school. He had gotten into taking various odd jobs for shady people which is how he ran across the Methuselah that had changed him into what he was today. He had enough contacts in the darker side of society to know Nightroad's connection to the Vatican, Albion *and* the Empire as well as the giving of Temptations from Moretti to Rossi with no questions or favors asked by either Don. It was also the reason why he made his way to a private gentleman’s club, and asked the butler there if he might be able to speak with Mr. Rossi in private. Since the butler didn't turn him away, Michael knew that one of the Rossi was in tonight.

After standing in the front foyer for about ten minutes, the butler returned and motioned for Michael to follow him. In a few minutes, Michael was standing before both Don Rossi and his son, and he bowed to both of them as the butler withdrew. “Thank you for seeing me, sir.”

“What can we do for you this evening, Mr. Archangel?” inquired Mario Rossi, waving him towards a chair.

“It's not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you,” began Michael as he sat down. “I just came from a meeting with Lorenzo Moretti where he wanted me to arrange an accident for Father Nightroad. I refused and walked out, but he is determined. I wouldn't put it past him to hire someone who either doesn't know of Father Nightroad's connections or doesn't care.”

Father and son exchanged looks before they focused on Michael again. “What do you wish for this information?” Mario asked, his eyes as unreadable as his face.

A small, genuine smile touched Michael's face. “Honestly? To continue to see my sister laughing and smiling. She just recently was offered a job as a bartender and backup cook at Temptations, and she hasn't stopped giggling in excitement since.” He was unable to hold back the laugh at the surprised looks on their faces.


	11. The Soul Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanseon Botsatsu is not happy with a new player in the game. Se decides to cheat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be rewritten some day. Hopefully.

The Soul Inside

By: Tazzy

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything that you recognize.

Author’s Notes: See this? *holds up time lines and Saiyuki Reloaded before crumpling in a ball and throwing away* I’ve got my own idea and it doesn’t include these. Well, maybe the Trinity Blood time line, but the details are mine.

***

The Merciful and Compassionate Goddess, Kanzeon Bosatsu, sighed as se watched the events of the world below in hir pool. A war had broken out, one that had touched every corner of the globe, and humanity was barely holding its own against a deadly foe. The Asian continent had already been removed from the war due to some well placed bombs that not only decimated the landscape and populous, but made it difficult to travel the terrain, almost guaranteeing that nature would creep back in to reclaim it as an untamed wilderness while the youkai and humans desperately tried rebuilding their homes.

‘Good thing I actually listened to Cassandra,’ se mused, hir thoughts briefly turning to where the five Sanzos had been evacuated to and placed under heavy guard. They would be needed to restore hope and faith to the population, no matter what their birth. Kanzeon frowned at the chaos and destruction the battles were causing, and se realized that if this continued, then humanity would lose, upsetting the balance further.

That would not do.

Turning, se left hir room and made hir way to a nearly forgotten door before slipping inside to gaze at the small figure sitting on the throne, motionless. War Prince Nataku stared at nothing, his blue eyes empty and his silver hair falling around his shoulders. He hadn’t moved since he healed from that fateful and painful day, and se had tried everything to get a response out of the young child-like god but to no avail. But now, Fate was forcing hir hand.

“Congratulations, Nataku, you’ve managed to disassociate yourself from everything and everyone,” Kanzeon said, bending down to stare into empty eyes. “But the way you chose isn’t towards Nirvana, and you’ve actually fallen from the Wheel. That’s truly a pity because you are needed again. This time, it’s not Heaven who needs you, but the world.”

Cupping his young face in hir hands, se placed a gentle kiss on his brow before Nataku dissolved into a riot of lights that condensed into a glowing ball, nestled in hir hands. “It’s time for you to step back on the Wheel, War Prince Nataku. Always remember that you are never alone.”

With that, Kanzeon vanished, taking the soul with her.

***

Snarling, the blond man scooped up a valuable vase that had been a tribute from some underling and heaved it into a wall, shattering it. Known as the Contra Mundi by many and Cain Nightlord by only a select few, he was head of the Rosen Kruenz Order, a select group who wanted to conquer the world and remake it in their own image. But Cain’s latest plan to further that goal had been stopped by Father Abel Nightroad of the Vatican’s AX Department.

“Damn his soul to Hell!” he snarled, throwing an antique table aside as he continued destroying the room, venting his fury on anything he could get his hands on. His agent had only needed five more minutes, and the world would have been plunged into another war between the Terrans and the Methuselahs. Then once all the governments had crumbled, his Rosen Kruenz Order would have swept in and cleaned up the pieces, taking over in a simple move, and allowing him to rule undisputed.

But his thrice-cursed brother had managed to stop him *again* and had brought their little sister, Seth Nightlord, out of hiding to help stop Cain.

“There has to be a way to set my plans in motion so that they can’t interfere and stop me,” he growled, blue eyes flashing as he spun around for something more to throw, when his gaze fell on the world map, hanging on one wall. 

It showed the new European countries and the Methuselah Empire, but what drew his attention was the large blank area marked simply as the Desolate Lands. No one really knew what was happening there because the few brave souls who had ventured in had reported back that it was wilderness before vanishing forever.

Cain started to smile. It would take some time, but he could slip around the Empire with Isaak and a few other minions without alerting Seth, and then he could build up an unstoppable army and look for a power that neither the humans nor the vampires would be able to counter. He would be able to crush the world whenever he wished, and no one would be able to stop him.

Smoothing his blond hair into place, Cain left his room to seek out those he would require for this trip.

***

Kanzeon frowned as se watched the Rosen Kruenz party join forces with the Corrupt Sanzo, Ni Jianyi, and Gyokumen, the dead Ox-King’s mistress, before starting to expand the youkai ranks with vampires. As good as hir nephew and his companions were in battle, they were slightly outmatched when it came to vampires.

“Looks like I need to recruit some help for Konzen,” se muttered, twirling a black curl around hir finger as se smirked. “I can hear the swearing already.”

Laughing, Kanzeon vanished to retrieve the one person who would be able to help hir nephew complete his quest.

***

It was a typical day in the Vatican. Clergy bustled around the momentous buildings, going about their business as the sun warned the sprawling ground, quiet voices mixing with the occasional snatch of laughter and birds singing pleasantly. In the main audience chamber, His Holiness, Pope Alessandro XVII, sat on his throne-like chair, almost swamped by his white Robes of State as he clutched his staff like it was the only thing keeping him from bolting from the room. Below him, seated in a lesser chair, was his half sister, Cardinal Catarina Sforza, head of the Department of Foreign Affairs, while their mutual half brother, Cardinal Francesco di Medici paced before them both, bellowing again.

Only through long practice and years of similar meetings kept Catarina from showing any emotion as she listened to her equal shout, his voice echoing through the large chamber to ensure everyone could hear him. Her head was starting to ache and part of her had to wonder if Francesco was going to loose his voice this time while a larger part wished he would just stop bellowing for Alessandro’s sake. Her heart ached for the teenaged pope who flinched each and every time Francesco turned towards him, voice still raised. She wished there was something she could do to inspire confidence in the gentle teenager, but each time she tried, Francesco was there with his bellowing demands to undo her gentle lessons.

Today’s subject that had started the bellowing sermon almost a half hour ago was the message they had received from Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Augusta Vradica of the True Human Empire wishing to open channels to discus a peace treaty and trade agreement with various human nations. A representative of the Germanic Kingdoms and one from Albion stood in the room with bored expressions on their faces as they listened to Francesco recite the reasons why the Methuselahs were not to be trusted.

“Oh, shut up already,” drawled a husky female voice, breaking through the tirade, and Catarina’s eyes were drawn to the back of the room where an unfamiliar person stood, illuminated by a beam of sunlight. The soft chiming of tiny bells filled the stunned silence as the person strolled down the red carpet that ran the length of the room, and Catarina was able to start picking out details about the person.

Long black hair tumbled around slender shoulders in thick curls from the high ponytail it was pulled up into, and a lush female figure was encased in a white toga so sheer that Catarina had to wonder why the person even bothered wearing it. But it was the very obviously male organ between the person’s legs that made Catarina slightly curious about the stranger. A large golden sun was hanging from a harness made of thick chains between the voluptuous breasts and golden bangles encased delicate wrists while small gold chains decorated with tiny bells wrapped around slender ankles.

Catarina rose from her chair and placed herself between the stranger and her younger brother who was blushing bright red from embarrassment at the pure sensuality and sexuality the stranger seemed to radiate. She took a breath to ask the person what their business was and how they managed to get past the guards that surely would have stopped them when Francesco found his voice again.

“Heretic! How <i>dare</i> you enter these Sacred Grounds dressed like that!” he bellowed, his eyes popping out of his head as he stared at the stranger. “Guards! Escort this woman out of His Holiness’ presence and find the person responsible for her being here!”

The possible woman ignored Francesco as she sashayed up past Catarina to lean over and pinch Alessandro’s red cheek. “Aren’t you a cutie? You remind me of my nephew before he grew up." She released Alessandro’s cheek and signed as she straightened back up. “Then he got all grumpy until I gave him a monkey.”

“Who are you and what is your business with His Holiness?” Catarina asked, moving to stand behind the stranger. She wanted to stand between her brother and this strange woman again to protect him from any danger, but the woman was too close to him.

“I’m here to keep a balance, Blondie,” drawled the woman, turning to face Catarina who deliberately ran her grey eyes over the stranger.

“Balance,” she mused as if tasting the word on her tongue. “Shall I assume that is your one appropriate trait?”

That got a full throated laugh out of the woman. “Among other things,” she said, her red lips stretching into a smirk. “I could get to like you.”

“I’m flattered,” Catarina replied in a droll tone.

“Hussy! Jezebel! Pontifar’s Wife!” shrieked Francesco, pointing at the stranger. “Painted woman!”

That got a snort and slender arms folded across the generous chest. “I’m not a woman. Now hush child while the adults talk.”

Unable to help herself, Catarina looked down at the male organ quite visible before returning her gaze to slate blue eyes. “I would say that’s obvious.”

Laughter rang out again from the stranger. “Amazing what some people refuse to see, isn’t it? Shall we be about my business then?”

Catarina quietly motioned for the guards to escort the nearly foaming Francesco to his quarters as she turned to the messengers. “We will continue our discussion once Cardinal di Medici has recovered,” she announced with a slight nod of respect to both of them. The messengers bowed back before leaving and Catarina faced the stranger once more to find that she had turned Francesco’s throne-like chair around and was casually sprawling in it, long legs thrown over the arm. “We have not been formally introduced. This is His Holiness, Pope Alessandro XVII, and I am Cardinal Catarina Sforza.”

The other simply smiled and waved for Catarina to resume her seat after she had turned it to face the woman. “Kanzeon Bosatsu, Goddess of Mercy and Compassion.”

***

Se smiled when the child pope squeaked again, his soft gray eyes large as he stared firmly at hir face. “Why are you here?”

Unable to help hirself, se reached out and brushed his brown bangs out of his face. “Someone’s decided to upset the balance in what you call the Desolate Lands, and I need help to put it right.”

“But can’t you just snap your fingers and it’s fixed?” Alessandro asked, his voice so naively innocent that se was once more reminded of Konzen when he had been little and asking questions like that. Se still didn’t know what had happened to turn hir bright nephew into an Ice Princess, and se had a feeling se never would.

“It doesn’t work that way, kiddo,” se apologized with a small smile, shifting to curl hir legs next to hir as se leaned an elbow on the arm of hir borrowed chair. “The gods, even your Jehova, can only do so much to help their followers, but the rest is up to you mortals.” Se winked at Alessandro, getting a deeper blush from the boy. “I’m just bending the rules a bit.”

“How can His Holiness and the Vatican help you?” asked the pretty cardinal, and Kanzeon smirked as se turned hir attention away from the young boy.

“A new player has barged his way into a game that’s been going on for a while,” se stated with a casual wave of a hand. “And frankly, I’m annoyed that this Cain Nightlord and his Rosen Kruenz Order crashed the party.”

Sforza growled, her eyes flashing as she leaned forward in her chair. “What do you need? I can have agents ready in a matter of minutes and the Iron Maiden prepped to go in about half an hour.”

Se held up a hand to stop the flow of offers from the blonde. “I only need Father Abel Nightroad.”

That brought Sforza up short, and she blinked surprised grey eyes at the goddess. “Are you sure you won’t need more agents?”

“More would only get in the way,” Kanzeon assured the pretty cardinal, and Sforza nodded before turning slightly away to touch her ear and hold a quiet conversation. 

A few seconds later, Sforza’s hand dropped from her ear and she turned back to kanzeon, a curious expression on her face. “How much do you know about Father Nightroad?”

Another laugh slipped out of hir. This was definitely an amusing visit if nothing else. “Enough that I’m very excited to meet him.” 

Sforza rose to her feet with Alessandro scrambling to his, apparently unwilling to be left alone. “We should move this discussion to some place more private. If you would be kind enough to follow us to His Holiness’ office...”

Rising to hir feet in a single graceful movement that had made more than one naga jealous, Kanzeon motioned for them to proceed hir before casually dropping an arm around Alessandro’s shoulders. The boy jumped before calming enough to walk down the hallway to an ornate office, and he quickly slid behind the large desk, looking very much like a child playing at being a grown up, reminding hir of Nataku, who wanted to be so much more than the killing doll his father forced him to be. 

Sforza stood at the corner of the large desk just as their was a polite knock on the door before Father Abel Nightroad slipped in, quietly shutting the door behind him. Kanzeon let hir eyes drift over him as se took in his appearance for the first time. Long silver hair was caught up in a ponytail with a black ribbon while tired blue eyes peered out at the world from behind rimless glasses. But the soul se could feel beating with his heart was the same one she had thrown back onto the Wheel of Life, Death, and Rebirth.

War Prince Nataku was looking fine, if a bit tired emotionally, but se thought he had never been more of a sight for sore eyes.

Nataku - no, Father Abel, se corrected hirself, not wanting to slip this early into the game - opened his mouth to greet the others when his gaze fell on Kanzeon, and his eyes grew large behind his glasses as he started at hir in shock. “Sweet Merciful Goddess.”

Laughing, Kanzeon reached out and ruffled his bangs as se had a thousand times in his previous life. “Glad to see you too, kiddo.”

“Father Nightroad, it has been brought to our attention that the Contra Mundi has turned his attention to the Desolate Lands,” began Sforza, evoking a low growl from Abel as his attention switched to her. “Your assistance has been requested to help stop him and any of his followers. Permanently.”

He closed his eyes briefly as if trying to shove his emotional exhaustion away, and he straightened before opening his eyes. “This will be a long term assignment then?” he asked, and he sighed softly when Sforza nodded. “May I borrow Sister Kate’s transmitter for a few minutes?”

“Of course,” agreed Sforza without hesitation, her hand rising to her ear again, and Kanzeon wondered what was going on when a small blonde woman in a white habit appeared in the office, her holographic image shimmering in the air.

Oh, this was going to be <i>interesting</i>.

***

Abel watched as Sister Kate appeared in the office, his face emotionless, but his gut churned with a chaotic mix of emotions. There was fury at Cain, old and familiar that urged him to rip the murderous traitor apart with his bare hands before decorating the landscape with his entrails while the weary acceptance that always came with another mission settled across his shoulders even though he had barely recovered from the last mission he had been on. Yet, each time his eyes fell on the lush hermaphrodite that stood there in sheer silk and gold jewelry with a smirk on hir ruby lips, there was a feeling of familiarness, as if he was suppose to know hir.

“Yes, Your Excellency?” inquired Sister Kate, her holographic image flickering slightly as she stood there. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Father Nightroad requires the use of your transmitter,” Catarina announced, gesturing to Abel and Sister Kate turned to look at him, an expectant look on her face.

Reaching up, Abel removed his glasses and smiled at the young nun. “I apologize for any discomfort you might experience,” he said before straightening and fixing her with a piercing stare. “Commander Abel Nightroad of the United Aerospace Force, Red Mars Project, identification code UNASF 984R MOC 666 02AK, open communications to satellite Hermes.”

Sister Kate blinked in confusion as Alessandro stared at Abel as if he had never seen the silver haired man before, and the blonde nun let out a startled yelp before her image wavered and was replaced with an image of Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Augusta Vradica, evoking startled gasps from both Catarina and Alessandro as Abel smiled at his sister in spirit. “Hello, Seth.”

The small ruler grinned, her green eyes dancing. “Hi, Abel. Where do you need me to hide the bodies?”

“It's nothing like that, bratling,” he teased before a serious expression slid across his face, erasing all humor. “Cain's been spotted in the Desolate Lands, and my help's being asked for. I don't know how long I'll be gone so I wanted to ask a favor from you.”

“Anything, brother. You know that,” Seth replied, her voice earnest as she leaned forward slightly on her throne, and a warm feeling enveloped Abel, one he hadn't felt in ages. 

“I want you to bring Lilith home,” he stated, his blue eyes meeting her green ones. The had talked about this this on the station before Abel had left with Lilith's body, and Seth had made Abel promise to allow her to entomb their mother if anything was to happen to Abel. He truly didn't want to ask this of Seth, but with so much of the Desolate Lands uncharted, it was questionable if he would ever return even if he should defeat Cain and his minions.

Seth closed her eyes for a few seconds, and she took a deep breath before speaking again. “I will send Mira to collect our mother,” she said in a soft voice before opening her eyes to meet Abel's gaze, her emerald eyes flashing brightly. “Bring the bastard's head back on a pike and we'll throw a week long party.”

“Be careful, little sister.” Abel reached out his hand as if to place it against the edge of the hologram like it was a window. 

She reached out as well, mirroring his gesture as their palms almost touched, and he could almost swear he could feel the heat of her skin on his. “You're never alone, big brother.”

With that, she vanished as the transmition was terminated, and Abel slipped his glasses back on as Sister Kate reappeared, a slightly disoriented look on her face. “Thank you for the assistance, Sister Kate. If you will excuse me, I need to pack for this assignment.” He glanced at the hermaphrodite and smiled slightly at hir. “It won't take me long since I haven't unpacked from the last mission.” He bowed briefly to Alessandro and Catarina before he withdrew from the office.

Several minutes later, Abel was shoving the last box of silver bullets into the old pack he had found stuffed in the bottom of his wardrobe, crushing the black robes that were folded in the bottom, and he paused to look around the room that he had claimed for the past several years. The small room was plain stone with a bed, desk, chair, and wardrobe that doubled as a weapons locker, but there was nothing at all that indicated that someone had ever lived there. No trinkets and nicknacks fought for space with pictures on the desk, no personal items covered the walls, and the blanket on the bed was the one that came with the room. It was almost depressing to realize that once he left, there would be no sign that he had ever been there.

'But this isn't my home,' he mused, a faint frown on his face as he turned back to his packing. 'I don't know where it is, but this wasn't it.'

“Yo, Father Four-Eyes,” greeted a friendly voice from the door, and Abel glanced over his shoulder to find Father Leon Garcia de Asturia leaning on the frame with a small smirk on his face. “There's a rumor racing around about a shapely lady wearing only gold jewelry and a smile getting past the guards to see the Pope.”

Tying the bedroll to the pack, Abel smiled and shouldered it as he brushed past the Spaniard. “That's not true. Se's also wearing a gauzy tunic.”

That got a hearty laugh out of Leon as the two priests walked down the hallway, their shoulders occasionally brushing as they moved. Dark eyes glanced over the dark pack that was stuffed full. “So, how long are you going to be gone this time?”

“I don't know if I will return,” confessed Abel, not meeting Leon's eyes. Out of everyone at the AX, Leon was the closest to a true friend that Abel had. Catarina may have given him a purpose in life again, but Leon was the one to show him how to enjoy his life. For that alone, the Spaniard deserved the truth about Abel's absence. “I'm going to the Desolate Lands to stop the Rosen Kruenz Order, even if it's the last thing I do.”

A gentle hand on his arm stopped him, and Abel turned to find Leon staring at him with a strange expression. “Don't get yourself killed out there. I expect you to come back and tell me everything that happened as I try to drink you under the table.”

“I will try but I can't promise,” Abel sighed, closing his eyes briefly as he gathered his resolve. Why couldn't Leon see that it hurt to leave like this, not knowing if he was ever going to see his friends again while the dirt and blood from the last mission still stained his skin?

Suddenly, warm lips covered his as a strong hand gripped the back of his head, preventing him from moving away. Abel's eyes flew to find Leon's eyes closed as he continued kissing the silver haired man, and a startled gasp slipped out of Abel before the dark haired priest broke the kiss, his eyes burning with a fierce light.

“Take my love as a weapon against the darkness, beautiful one,” Leon murmured in Spanish as he slipped something heavy on Abel's wrist before turning to walk down the hallway away from the stunned priest. “See you when you get back, Abel Nightroad.”

Abel stared after Leon, one hand coming up to touch his tingling lips as the Spaniard vanished around a corner, and part of him wondered why Leon had never mentioned that he felt that way towards Abel while another part was moaning at the lost opportunities. A weight on his wrist reminded him of the object the Spaniard had slipped on his arm, and he looked down to find a thick silver cuff, keen eyes picking out the nearly invisible zigzag design on the surface while a small button was neatly hidden along the edge. Abel knew pressing the button would cause the silver teeth to spring out, forming the deadly points of the throwing disk, and a small smile crossed his face. It was a weapon Leon was most proficient with, other than the grenade launcher, and by presenting Abel with this disk, Leon was verifying that the silver haired priest had a weapon against vampires when his bullets ran out.

'And they will run out,' Abel sighed as he mentally prepared to once more jump willingly into the fight against the Rosen Kruenz Order, and he squared his shoulders as continued to His Holiness' office where his strange guide to Cain waited.

***

The door opened to admit Abel a second time, and Kanzeon smiled at the sight of the full pack clutched in one hand, the bedroll tied neatly to the top, and the determined look in his blue eyes despite the weariness that was in his gaze.

“Catarina, it was a true pleasure knowing you,” Abel stated, a soft smile on his face before he bowed to the boy pope. “Your Holiness, believe in yourself because you are stronger than you think, and Francesco fears that strength.” Reaching out, he placed a card, two long silvered earclips, and a pair of rimless glasses on the desk before pushing them over to Sforza, who was staring at him with tears starting to build in her grey eyes. “Should I return, I will reclaim these, but until that time, keep them safe for me.”

Kanzeon slipped hir arm through his and grinned up at him. “Ready to go?”

The silver haired man nodded, and se transported them both to a deserted stretch of road that was only a few hours from the next town. Se tugged the ribbon out of his hair, letting it fall around his hips, before se held out a plastic card. “Now since I invited you along on this little venture, I wanted to give you the funds to pay your way. I have a group heading this way already, but they don’t know about the new player. You’ll probably join up with them in a town or two.”

“How will I know them?” He asked, and se realized he was still speaking Italian. Gently tugging him down with a hand on the back of his neck, se placed a kiss on his forehead, giving him the knowledge of the local languages as well as placing the diamond he once wore as Nataku on his forehead. It was only a faint shadow at the moment, but as his memories of his time in Heaven returned, it would darken. Se hoped that it would also start breaking down the barriers on hir nephew and his companions’ memories, because Heaven was most definitely full of bores and idiots these days.

  
  
  
  
  


There was a loud, almost animalistic snarl that silenced the talking in the common room before the door slammed open to admit a blur of silver and black. Sanzo’s eyes narrowed as the blur resolved itself into a man clad in black robes similar to what Bishop Hazel Grouse wore with long silver hair pulled up in a tail, and his companions tensed for a fight just as the new arrival grabbed Hazel by the back of his robes and yanked him out of his seat with a furious “You!”

Sanzo had to admit that he was a bit pleased to see the normally unflappable priest so shocked as he was slammed against the nearest wall with a furious man almost snarling in his face. Gat was on his feet but there was suddenly a revolver pointing at the large man, held in the hand of the new arrival. “Stay there. I have a few things to discuss with this so-called miracle man,” growled the new arrival, not bothering to look at Gat.


	12. Author's Note Big One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note

Okay this is just an author's note, feel free to ignore as you wish!!

I'm hoping that by posting these bits up here, I'll be motivated to actually work on them or even finish them. *grins* This is just a fraction of what I'm working on, but the rest is original fiction that I hope to self publish thus can't post here. Or if I did, I'd be dragging the chapters down when those stories were ready for publication. Instead of doing that, I figure I'd just put these up.

Of course, if those who want to read my scribblings want to read teasers of those stories, I can add them to this easily.

Enjoy this offering!


End file.
